


Magic, Medicine and Madness

by Natty



Series: My Magical Merlin Addiction [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), But not the Bon Jovi song, Character Death, Drug Use, Dubious Science, Fake Medicine, Gen, Good Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Magic, Magic is not even a little bit secret, Major Illness, Medicine, Merlin getting fed up and being a total shit starter, Out of Character, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Protective Arthur, Shapeshifting, Vomiting, Well Uther who cares about his kids at least, bad medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:21:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natty/pseuds/Natty
Summary: Uther had been a politician and a businessman for all of Arthur’s life. He had been running campaigns against the magic community for just as long. Early in Arthurs's life, one of the many pharmaceutical companies Uther owned produced a dangerous drug called XM that could suppress magic. Not long after, the drugs were labeled as both unhealthy and unethical and were forcibly removed from the market. Uther never gave up though, and he raised his two children to understand the horrible truths of magic.When Morgana collapses at Uther’s kitchen table one morning, Uther rushes her to the emergency. There, she is examined by Guise, the former family doctor, and it is reviled that her sudden and life-threatening illness is a direct result of magic suppressing drugs. The only way to save her life is through the direct intervention of an extremely powerful magic user, to jump-start her magic and heal her body. Against his father’s wishes, Arthur insists on contacting the only person that might be willing and able to save his sister, Merlin Emrys.
Series: My Magical Merlin Addiction [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567936
Comments: 28
Kudos: 90





	1. The Gray in the Vein

Uther listened to the radio every morning while he ate breakfast. His children, Morgana and Arthur, now adults, would occasionally join him. He didn’t listen to a music station. He’d listen to the political stations. The news stations, not just one but as many as he could. He enjoyed hearing the headlines, keeping up to date on what was happening in his nation. Even though he wasn’t currently in a particularly strong political position, it was still his nation. He’d tried to pass that feeling on to his children too. Arthur had always agreed. Now as a man, his son also listened to the radio every morning and like his father, Arthur had embarked on a political career. Morgana though was not interested. She often told her father that she simply hadn’t found her vocation yet. She said that she was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had a great calling waiting for her, but she couldn’t rush things. It had rankled with him at first but at least his daughter was no lay-about. She had quickly climbed the corporate latter at every organization she worked with, but she never stayed. She jumped from industry to industry and never fully committed to them before leaving. She did not listen to the radio in the morning like her father.

Today’s radio was no good, even Uther felt the urge to turn it off. He switched stations but the same story was running there as well. Arthur and Uther shook their heads as they buttered toast. The entire nation was damn near obsessed. “The most powerful man in the world turns 23 today,” Another delusional voice babbled on in the background while they waited for Morgana to come downstairs. “As usual, the House Emrys has not released any statement but we still wanna wish you a happy birthd-,” Arthur rolled his eyes in disgust and shut the radio off.

“They really have no idea how ridiculous they sound, do they?” 

...

Morgana could hear the radio from her room. She half-listened while she put on her makeup. Her hands were shaking terribly, and she had already had to wash off the makeup once. Ever since she had woken up that morning, she had known something was wrong. Just like every morning, she had taken two pills as soon as her alarm went off. But something was different. She experienced a terrible headrush stepping out of bed and found herself sprawled on the floor a moment later. She looked horrible too. Her skin was dry and raw, painful to the touch. She had dressed quickly and then sat down in front of her vanity to see if she could do anything to make herself look more presentable.

When the radio turned off, she gave up. Standing up from her vanity on shaking legs she strode as confidently as she dared into the hall and down the stairs. Her father and brother turned to look at her as she approached. Uther stood immediately and she knew she must look even worse than she had thought. She glanced at Arthur, waiting for his inevitable comment on her appearance but his face was dumbstruck. “Morgana. What’s wrong?” Uther said, his voice was hard, and his eyes were worried.

Morgana opened her mouth to answer and was immediately sick. The nausea she had been fighting all morning suddenly and brutally getting the better of her, she collapsed to her knees. Arthur and Uther were both at her side before she could hit the ground. Her clothes were covered in vomit and her head was spinning terribly. Arthur pulled her into his arms, his hands whipping frantically at her face. For a second, she felt better and then she tasted something like copper in the back of her mouth. It cut through the taste of bile and sick. It wasn’t unlike the taste of blood, and then her body started to quiver. She tried to stop but the shaking got worse and worse. Uther and Arthur were both trying to talk to her, but she couldn’t make sense of their voices. She started to convulse, her eyes rolling in her head. There were other people in the room now. The door had burst in. They were lifting her up and suddenly there was a god-awful crack. Pain exploded up her legs and she tried to scream. Her voice came out as little more than a gurgle. Vaguely, she registered being moved out to a car, an ambulance. There were people everywhere and lights flashing in their hands, their voices adding to the din echoing in her head.   
...

Morgana’s skin had surpassed its usual porcelain paleness, she looked hideous. Arthur could see her veins standing out against her deathly pallor, they didn’t look blue or green like his, they had turned into an ugly, grayish spider’s map distorting her face. Every so often, she would twitch in her narrow hospital bed. It was a far cry from the thrashing seizures that had brought her here, but it was still unnerving.

They were never as close as they could have been. They’d grown up in the same home, raised by the same man but closeness had always been difficult for both of them. In spite of that, she had always sort of seemed like a sister to him. For the longest time, Uther had tried to keep them divided out of fear that Arthur had never really understood. Whether he’d lied to protect Morgana’s feelings about her parents or just to protect his own reputation, finally learning the truth about Uther’s affair had been a relief.

But no, they were never quite as close as they should have been, but he still loved her. He’d always thought he knew her too well for secrets to be between them. Suddenly that wasn’t true anymore and he supposed it never had been because here they were, in a too bright hospital room with the press practically pounding on the door, looking for a scoop on Uther Pendragon’s secret daughter who had magic. The daughter who was dying right in front of them from trying to suppress that magic. Uther and Gaius were standing on opposite sides of Morgana’s sickbed. They were squaring off in a way that Arthur had never seen before.

Gaius had stopped being Arthur’s doctor when he was still very young. He hadn’t understood it at the time but as he grew into a man, he began to put the pieces together. His father and Gaius had argued bitterly over magic and when Gaius failed to bend to Uther’s will he had been cut off entirely. Gaius was still the one Uther had called for help when Morgana had collapsed at the breakfast table that morning, her whole body shaking and contorting with enough force to snap her bones.

Arthur knew what Gaius was about to say a moment before it happened, and he felt as though his stomach was filling with hot led. “Uther,” He says, and Arthur is sure that Gaius had never used that tone of voice on his father before. “Your daughter has magic.”

Uther’s head juked up from staring at Morgana’s distorted face, his expression twisting into a snarl, “How dare you!” He started. But it was true. They all knew it was true. Gaius wasn’t even the first doctor to tell them since they’d arrived at the hospital, but Uther had insisted on another opinion. He’d looked despite then like he was searching for a lifeline, the look on his face now was nothing short of murderous. Arthur was shocked to see how unruffled Gaius was by that.

Gaius straightened up to his full height and looked Uther dead in the eye. “Morgana has been taking XM, or something similar.” It was like a blow to the stomach; XM was a Pendragon Prescriptions product that had been banned by the Medicines & Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency for its dangerous side effects. Most of the test subjects involved in the drug’s trial had died. Some of them died right away but others had seemed fine right up until they dropped dead. The symptoms Arthur had read about in the reports certainly did seem similar to what Morgana was suffering through. “She will die Uther; she needs more then mundane medicine and she will die if she does not receive it…” The old man shook his head, breaking eye contact with Uther to look at the girl trembling in the hospital bed, “with haste.”

Arthur asked what had to be done. He didn’t hear his own voice through the pounding in his ears, but the two men turned to look at him and he realizes that he must have finally spoken up. He expected Uther to keep arguing but he suddenly looked completely defeated and said nothing. Uther only let’s go of Morgana’s gray lined hand when Gaius motions them over to the table to sit down. It's there that the old physician begins to explain what is happening to his sister.

XM, the magic suppressing drug has been messing with her body’s internal balance for what looks like years. In a calm professional voice, Gaius informs them that the amount of XM that has built up in her system has begun to entirely halt her body’s production of magic. Arthur doesn’t understand at first, so he asks questions while Uther just shakes his head. Guise’s eyes don’t match his calm tone when he answers those questions when he tells Arthur that the magical energy in Morgana’s body is like the kinetic energy in his own. “You see my boy,” he says, “Now that energy isn’t being produced, the lack of it will essentially paralyze her and shortly after she will go into shock, her organs will shut down and she will die.”

Arthur wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Gaius that he was wrong, that Morgana didn’t need magic to survive, but he glanced over at her, unconscious but still suffering. It wasn’t a graceful illness; the drug trial reports hadn’t prepared him to see her like this. She was drooling and shaking, her skin looked thick and fake as though she were covered in poorly colored plaster and her veins were shadowy, deep cracks destroying it. “What Morgana needs,” Arthur realized that Gaius was still talking with a start, turning back to look at his weary face. “What Morgana needs is essentially a magic transfusion. Like a blood transfusion, only this would be to help kick start her own magic.” Arthur stared.

“You can do that?” He says. He can remember reading about the ways that magic can be used as a battery. Uther had written an enormous thesis on the way that particularly strong magic users could be put into service in such a way. It had not been received well.

“No Arthur, I don’t have the power. We will need to contact the Balance Foundation and have a representative provide the transfusion. This is exactly the kind of situation they handle” There’s a pause, then Gaius stood, “I will make arrangements to proceed.”

Before he could leave the room, Uther slammed his hand down on the table. “No, I won’t allow it.” Arthur turned to stare at his father. “I won’t have some freak come down here and, and infect my daughter! There must be another way!”

This time the argument doesn’t last long. Uther is convinced through necessity. He wants Morgana to live so he bends his own rules. It leaves Arthur feeling confused and a little bit sick. Less than an hour later Gaius ushers an older woman into the room. Her hair is coppery red and she wears a bright blue T-shirt decorated with wight stars. It has the word balance written in all caps across the chest. Arthur remembered vaguely that the Balance Foundation mostly worked with kids who had magic and had been abused. “This is Alice,” Gaius introduces her with pride. She looked kind, motherly in a way that disarmed Arthur almost immediately. As she began her examination of Morgana, Uther angrily announced that he needed a walk to clear his head. He slammed the door behind him.

Arthur sat back down at the table and waited. He closed his eyes and nakedly hoped that Alice would straighten up and say that everything was fixed now. When Alice did stand up, she walked straight to Gaius and began to speak to him in a low murmur. Arthur tried to listen in on their conversation with little success. Though he thought he heard not strong enough and we can’t ask him to do that come out of Alice’s mouth. Arthur opened his mouth to reassure them, they could ask him to do anything and he would, gladly. Then it dawned on him that they might not be talking about him. He would do anything to save Morgana, but Uther might not. Uther might believe that Morgana would be better off dead than with magic coursing through her body and if it had been anyone but her, Arthur probably would have agreed. “What is it, what’s wrong? You can’t fix her?” Arthur blurts out without thinking.

Alice covered one of his hands with her own across the table. When she speaks, she sounds sad and she speaks like she talking to a child, “I’m not strong enough to help her I’m afraid. Morgana is very strong, that’s how she lasted so long on the XM, but it means that to heal she needs someone very strong to help her. I’m sorry Arthur, but there just aren’t many people with that type of power…”

Arthur felt his face crumple, but he doesn’t cry. Gaius and Alice went back to speaking in hushed voices again and this time Arthur took a deep breath and deliberately eavesdropped on the conversation. Gaius was saying “We should call him, he might help.” And no, that couldn’t be about himself or his father, because the Pendragons couldn’t help in any situation that required powerful magic. Either he or Uther had already managed to insult and anger every member of the Council of Magic. Nimueh Priest, in particular, hated their guts. Alice answered with “We cannot ask him to do this, not after everything, and for a Pendragon.” That sounded more like it.

Gaius made a surprised face and stepped back, “You know that wouldn’t matter to him! I’m surprised at you.” Alice shook her head sadly.

“You know I don’t believe that girl deserves to die,” She jerked a hand towards Morgana, “But we have no right to ask this of him. Think of the damage that it might do!”

“We have to at least ask,” Gaius said. “It's my responsibility as a physician to do everything that I can to help my patients and until I’ve called him, I haven’t done that.”

Alice took a deep breath, “It doesn’t matter, Uther would never allow it anyway.”

Arthur stood up from his seat, he’d heard enough, they both startled as though they had forgotten that he was there. “Who are you talking about? I want you to call him.” He took a deep breath before adding, “It's not like my sister is a child, you don’t need my father's consent to help her.”

Alice poorly hid a thin-lipped face. Gaius gave Arthur a level look, then raising one eyebrow he said, “Merlin Emrys.”


	2. He’s a Dog, He’s a Snake – The Techno-Pop Remix

The more Arthur heard from Gaius and Alice the more he understood just how bad things really were. There was a very short list of people who could help and none of them would be thrilled to drop everything to help the Pendragon family.

Merlin Emrys. At first Arthur didn’t even bother to wonder how either of them knew Emrys but after a moment it seemed odd. The most powerful man in the world probably didn’t hand out his number to just anyone. Then again, Emrys had been involved in some charitable efforts with the Balance Foundation before. Arthur only remembered because of the tirade Uther had gone on about how Emrys used charitable acts to influence the public. He was mostly regarded as a recluse so whenever Emrys became involved with charity the press and tabloids had a field day.

Alice was right, Uther would never allow it. Even if he did, there was no way in hell that Emrys would be coming. Arthur told them to call him anyway. Let the rat bastard laugh down the phone line at their miserable situation, Arthur was going to be sure. He would be absolutely sure there was no hope for Morgana before he gave up. When Alice and Gaius went to leave the room for the call, he asked them to stay. He wanted to hear it, to hear the refusal for himself. Alice didn’t seem happy, but Gaius agreed readily enough. Before dialing the number, Alice warned him not to interrupt the call. At first Arthur was livid, but after a few deep breaths he reminded himself that anything Emrys heard from a Pendragon probably wouldn’t help at all.

Arthur would never admit it, but he knew the reason he was pushing so hard was because he wanted the call done and over with before Uther got back. If Emrys refused than Uther would never need to know that Arthur had tried to reach out to him. If he agreed Arthur would deal with his father after. Alice dialed the number, and someone picked up on the first ring.

They had refused his request to put the phone on speaker so Arthur couldn’t make out most of the conversation. The first thing he noticed was that Alice addressed Emrys casually as though they knew each other personally. Gaius was the one to explain the situation. He did so very clinically, and Arthur couldn’t help but wonder if Emrys would really understand the slue of medical jargon that Gaius was rattling off over the phone. After a pause Alice took the phone back and assured Emrys that he shouldn’t feel obligated to help. In made Arthur lock his teeth together irritably. There was another long pause and Arthur got the feeling that this was the moment of truth. Emrys was making a decision. Arthur wiped his sweaty palms against his trouser legs.

“Are you sure?” Alice said. Arthur held his breath and after a second Alice started listing the hospital and room number. She nodded to Gaius and stepped out of the room.

“Alice is going to wait for Merlin downstairs.” Gaius said. He gave Arthur a kind smile and asked if he had any questions. Arthur breathed deeply and reminded himself that this was a good thing. Someone was coming to help Morgana so that they could take her home. So that she could leave this miserable little room. Before any of that could happen though, Arthur would have to face up to his father, that was alright too though because it had to be.

…

Between the time it took for Arthur to tell his father who he’d asked for help and for Emrys’s actual arrival at the hospital a lot happened. The waiting room where Arthur had found his father had thankfully, been mostly empty. Even so, the shocked looks on the faces of the few people that were around wouldn’t be leaving Arthurs mind for a long while. He had hoped that he would be able to calmly tell Uther the news, that Emrys could come and go without anyone having to know that they’d asked for his help. Uther hadn’t seemed concerned with secrecy though. As soon as he started yelling, the game was up.

Even if none of the viewers in the waiting room were reporters, which Arthur doubted, they would still share the story they’d overheard. Uther had raged when Arthur told him who would be visiting Morgana. He spat out every insult he could think of, calling Emrys a wild menagerie of unpleasant beasts. Arthur figured at least one person had videotaped Uther’s outburst. He fully expected that a google search tomorrow morning would reveal a thousand different links including the remixed musical version entitled “He’s a Dog, He’s a Snake”, and filled with enough profanities to make a sailor blush. Uther hadn’t calmed down so much as run out of words to express his anger, but it was too late to change things now.

It would take Emrys a few hours to arrive from wherever he’d been when he got the call. In that time, Morgana’s heart stopped twice. Now her heartbeat on the monitor sounded sluggish and disjointed even to Arthur’s untrained ear. Uther was back at Morgana’s side and after the argument they’d had, Arthur needed a moment away from his father. So, he’d done all the research that he could on his phone, sitting in a plastic chair outside of her room. He’d started with learning about what a magic transfusion actually was. Most of the information he found was sparse and confusing. As far as he could tell it involved taking or rather absorbing someone else’s magic as though it were your own. There was little to no information on the potential dangers.

He found one case file on a shady website; it was likely illegal under patient confidentiality, but Arthur really couldn’t care less. The nameless, faceless patient from the case had almost completely lost their magic and it took months of frequent magic transfusions to save them. There was no mention of drugs in the file and there was no explanation for how the patient had ended up so sick. His search led him to the Balance Foundation’s official website and he remembered Gaius saying that Morgana’s situation was exactly the kind of thing they dealt with. He didn’t find as much information there as he’d hoped for either. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the subject itself must be taboo in the magic community.

Arthur found information about Alice on the Balance Foundation’s website too. It seemed she was quite high up in the organization. Arthur supposed that solve the question of how she’d had Emrys’s contact information. She must have retained it from when he had worked with the organization two years earlier. But no, that was wrong too. After a little more digging Arthur discovered that Emrys had actually founded the Balance Foundation himself when he was 18 years old. The information wasn’t exactly hidden but it also wasn’t readily available.

It was enough to set Arthur off on researching Emrys. After all, he was about to let the man perform some kind of magical transfer on his sister. Arthur figured he should try to learn as much as possible about him before hand. He certainly lived up to the title of recluse. Most of the photos of him were either blurry snaps taken from far away or photographs of him as a child. Despite the frankly absurd number of articles, websites and stories devoted to him, there seemed to be very little information. It was difficult to separate fact from fiction and Arthur found himself on more then one fan site that seemed legitimate until it suddenly devolved into the delusional and the fanatical. By the end he hadn’t actually found out anything he hadn’t already known. The House Emrys was the most well respected of the magical families. Not just in Britain but all over the world. There was some great legend there that had to do with their prowess, but Arthur didn’t bother to even skim it. Whatever folktale they told themselves to feel special didn’t matter to Arthur.

Merlin Emrys was the son of Hunith and Belinor Emrys, who had both died back when he was very young. In fact, he was the only living member of the bloodline. He’d been taken in by Nimueh Priest who depending on who you asked either shared no relation or was a distant relative. At fourteen years old, following a petition spearheaded by Arthur’s own father, Emrys had been tested on the Sigan Scale to determine just how powerful he really was. He’d surpassed the record set by Cornelius Sigan centuries previous and was immediately pronounced to be the most powerful man in the world. Despite the media storm that had followed there were no pictures from the day. Arthur let out a snort, rolling his eyes, “Wow Emrys, way to live up to the family name.”

There was the clearing of a throat not far away. Arthur looked up to see Alice’s disapproving eye as she and a tall, well dressed man strode down the hall towards him. Arthur jumped to his feet stuffing his phone back into his pocket. They’d never met before, but Merlin Emrys was looking at him like he was something unpleasant he’d just found in his food. Arthur looked back, Emrys wasn’t all that impressive in real life. He was a little bit scrawny; his hair was a dark mess and his skin was horribly pale. In fact, his complexion reminded Arthur of Morgana that morning before she had collapsed. Arthur thought that Emrys even looked a bit frightened but maybe that was just Arthur’s imagination, after all what could possibly scare this man.

“Merlin, this is Arthur Pendragon,” Alice said, “Arthur, meet Merlin Emrys.” Emrys nodded to Arthur, it was casual if not cool. They did not shake hands. Emrys was radiating ‘don’t you dare touch me’ vibes and that was fine with Arthur he had no interest in making contact either.

Looking at Alice, Emrys said, “Does Uther know you called me?”

Arthur answered curtly, “Yes, but he’s not very happy about it.” He inwardly winced at the memory of Uther’s anger. Hopefully Morgana could get the treatment she needed before Emrys found out about Uther’s rage induced speech and changed his mind about helping.

If he could just get through this without insulting Emrys than maybe everything would be alright at the end of it. He glanced down the hall. So far, no nosy parkers had appeared. The hospital security along side Uther’s personal security team didn’t seem to be having any trouble keeping people out, but maybe it would be better to talk in the privacy of Morgana’s room. He said as much and the other two agreed. Arthur had half a mind to ask Emrys if he’d said anything to anyone, but it didn’t really matter he supposed. Half the nation was going to know about this by dinner and there was nothing Arthur could do about it now.

Before going in, Arthur stopped with his hand on the doorknob and said, “I think perhaps I should apologise in advance for anything… inappropriate my father might say to you. I hope you’ll understand that none of us are at our best considering the situation.” He didn’t really mean it, but he knew how to be a good politician when he needed to, and he needed Emrys to like them.

Alice brightened a little, some of the motherly warmth returning to her face. She clearly cared for Emrys and Arthur had earned some points for appealing to his feelings. Emrys however, looked at Arthur as though he had just spoken a foreign language and he had absolutely no idea what it had meant. Then he looked at Arthur like he knew he’d been lied to. There was a little uncomfortable pause. “Uther will not speak to me,” Emrys said, “I’d be very surprised if he acknowledges I’m in the room at all… but thank you” The last part of the statement, tacked on like something that didn’t belong, gave Arthur the impression that Emrys was trying just as hard as he was to remain cordial.

…

Beyond the safety of the hallway, back in the sick room, Morgana had gotten worse. Arthur blanched at the sight of her, clearly distressed and Merlin just tried not to stare. The woman in the bed didn’t even look human to him. Her skin had taken on an ugly grayish cast, her veins where raised and some pulsed in ugly uneven patterns. Somehow that helped though. The nerves that Merlin had been trying to hide since he’d gotten the call receded a bit at the unfamiliarity of the situation. She looked so ill and so fragile, he wanted to help her. “I’ve never seen this type of colouration or veining before.” He said turning to Gaius for an explanation.

“It’s the XM.” Gaius said and Alice put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not typically this pervasive because at this point the patient is usually…” The unfinished sentence hung in the air.

Arthur let out a little noise, but Merlin just nodded, “I understand, is there anything I should take into account.”

“Its alright, you know how to do this Merlin. She might need more that you expect so be sure to pace yourself.” Alice was the one talking now, her whole focus was on Merlin like he was the only one in the room. “You won’t be able to fix all the damage at once. Give her as much as you can without doing damage to yourself. Whenever you feel like your done, your done. You don’t have to keep going.” She sounded so kind now, so motherly.

Arthur was soothed by that tone. He felt sure that Alice knew what she was doing. Merlin was looking at her a little desperately, but he was nodding along with her words. This time when Merlin looked at Morgana his eyes were shimmering with gold. He walked to the opposite side of the bed from Uther. As he approached Uther stood and moved away with a twisted look on his face.

Merlin placed one hand at Morgana’s collarbone. He breathed in deeply, he breathed out and then he gave his magic a little push. From somewhere warm deep in his chest the power came to life, for a moment it danced uninhibited by purpose or need. He let his eyes slide shut and focused on that dance, told it to move through him like his blood. It found the path he wanted it to take, charged down his arm and into his fingers, pooling there with a subtle glow. Morgana was un-receptive, so he pushed just a little harder, extended his magic’s path to include her skin and then muscles and bones. They welcomed it, like water being pulled into a vacuum of empty space.

…

Arthur wanted nothing more than to pull that man away from his sister. He stared at the strange display in front of him. Something was happening but he couldn’t really understand what. He had almost made up his mind to put a stop to it when he caught glimpse of Morgana’s face past Emrys’s arm. She didn’t really look that much better, but the difference was palpable. Some of the horrible grayness had faded away and there was almost a warmth to her skin. As uncomfortable as he was, Arthur kept his mouth shut. Uther was standing beside him and he looked ill, disgusted.

The pull on his magic was insignificant at first and Merlin had to push to convince Morgana to except it. After a few moments, it was like her body had begun to wake up, the connection between them was seamless, neither of them working. Something like an electrical current was running happily between them. Even so, Merlin could feel his heart starting to beat faster and he wondered if he should pull away. But he couldn’t yet, he kept the pace slow. Feeding power into her cautiously letting it warm her veins as it sought out her own dormant magic hidden somewhere, golden and fearsome underneath layers and layers of gray. He reminded himself that he was in control, he breathed in and out, shallow, shaky breaths. He slowed the pace, there was no need for panic, he was in control. Then he touched it, something molten and formidable and hungry. It wrapped around Merlin, caught up his magic in tangles and pulled. His power rushed to fill the demand easily tripling the pace he had set.

One moment Morgana had been still and the next her hand had snapped up to grip Emrys’s forearm. Arthur stared slack jawed. The veins on Emrys’s arm started to stand out. But no, those weren’t veins at all, they were like little golden spider webs bleeding away from where Morgana’s skin met his. Almost immediately after, Emrys broke contact with her entirely, with two large steps back to be sure. He turned to look at the small crowd behind him. Emrys looked awful, Arthur couldn’t be sure, but it almost seemed like he was shaking. “she should be stable now,” he said and there was an undeniable tremor to his voice. “She’ll need to receive more magic over the next few days before she’ll properly regain consciousness. You’ll have to have her transferred to one of the Balance Foundation’s facilities. I’ll make sure there’s a room for her in one near by so you can visit,” Emrys was speaking to the room at large and not looking at any of them. “I expect that any of the donors at Balance would be able to take it from here, but I will check in to see if she needs my help again.” Without another word he swept out of the room letting the door quietly slide shut behind him.

…

Gaius had moved forward to examine Morgana. Alice had turned towards the door as if to follow Emrys out, but Arthur easily out paced her. Somewhere in the back of his mind Arthur knew it was stupid and unnecessary, but he had committed now. All he could think about was the odd, pinched look on Emrys’s face when he’d given that little speech. Had something gone wrong? Why was Emrys fleeing from the room? Out in the hall the bathroom door was swinging on its hinges and with a disgusted face Arthur stormed in.

It wasn’t the confrontation Arthur had imagined. First of all, it’s hard to yell at someone when they’re kneeling in front of a public toilet puking horribly. Not just because they’re so much closer to the ground than you but also because it just feels wrong. Upon realizing the situation, Arthur let out a disgusted groan that didn’t make him feel particularly manly. Then he kind of just stood behind Emrys not sure what to do. The next thing he knew Emrys had cleaned up the stall and was pushing past him to the sinks. He leaned down to wash out his mouth. “You know we’re in a hospital, right? That’s probably filthy, you could catch something terrible.” It was the first thing that had come to Arthur’s head and he hadn’t planned on saying it out loud either. Glancing back at the stall he murmured “if you don’t already have something,” under his breath.

Emrys straightened up wiping none to gently at his dripping face. “This has been fun Arthur; we should do it again sometime. Goodbye.” Emrys moved to go by Arthur but he blocked the way.

“I want to know what happened back there. What’s wrong with you?”

“What happened was I saved your sister’s life; bit rough on the system though.” Arthur was at a loss how to reply to that and Emrys took the opportunity to shove past him back into the hall. Alice was standing there with her arms crossed. Arthur caught her eye and she did not look pleased. With out any warning, Emrys wheeled around to face Arthur, trapping him in the doorway to the washroom, “Would it kill you to say thank you?” His voice was harsh and he was glaring, “You look a lot like your father Arthur, and you sound like him too.” Actually, Emrys looked just this side of feverish and Arthur stepped back a little.

Alice placed a hand on Emrys’s back and started to guide him away down the hall. He kept his eye on Arthur until she led him into an empty patient room. Completely unsure of what to do, Arthur just stood there for a moment. Then gathering himself he returned to Morgana’s room.

…

“I’m going to pass out.” Merlin said hoarsely. His breath was coming in short pants and he was shaking from head to toe.

“No, you aren’t.” Alice replied in a calm, soothing voice. “I’m here and your going to be just fine. Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”

Merlin stared at her for a long minute. “She caught me off guard. She took hold of my magic. I… couldn’t stop it.”

She sighed, “I think that you should rest here for a while. Just take a few deep breaths. I know it was difficult, but you knew when to pull away. No one got hurt.” She started to help him out of his jacket. “This room is unoccupied,” she gestured to the bed. It had already been made up fresh, Merlin wondered peripherally if Alice had done it with magic just then or if she had set the room up with this purpose in mind. “Try to rest for a little while. Gaius and I will do the paperwork for Morgana’s transfer. He and I are worried about you.” He blinked and then nodded. “This is exactly why I was hesitant to call you.”

“I wanted to.” He said.

Alice smiled, “I know you did.” She kissed his cheek and slipped out of the room.

Merlin looked at the fresh hospital bed. His shirt was soaked with sweat, so he yanked it off and sat it on top of his jacket. This was stupid, he’d known that it could turn out this way. He shouldn’t panic. He should have thought ahead. He crawled into the bed, wrapped the covers around his shoulders and breathed deeply waiting for the shivers to subside. Maybe he would turn into a bird when he left, his magic was still thrumming discontentedly in his chest. He didn’t need anyone seeing him like this, let alone taking pictures. He wanted to fly. The last thing he thought of before drifting to sleep was Morgana. In a few days she would wake up to a divided world and both sides would probably hate her. For having magic or for being Uther’s daughter. He wanted to help her, that was why he’d come to begin with. He could hear Nimueh’s voice in the back of his mind and it was unpleasant, but he couldn’t imagine growing up in Uther’s household. He stopped trying and he drifted away.


	3. Eyes of a Stranger

This had never happened before. A moment of total, undeniable clarity. She could feel everything. She had been struck by lighting. It was like an electric wave through her blood stream. She was the center of an earthquake. A vibrating coming from the very center of her bones. She had swallowed the sun. There was a hot energy burning through her making her restless and fidgety. She could do anything. Nothing else mattered, it was the absolute high of her life, not entirely un-painful and just as easily something she could die of but entirely worth the agony. It didn’t matter that her father was angrily muttering, it didn’t matter that her brother couldn’t quite manage to look at her. It was 2 am, in a dreary hospital room, rain was drizzling outside of her window and she was utterly invincible.

This feeling, this certainty, this power didn’t belong to her. The thing was, she didn’t know where it came from, but it had found her. Reached into her and recognize its kin. It found some little flame inside her that had started to wither and had joined it, raising the heat to a fever pitch. Her memory of that moment was base and simple. There had been cold and dark and then there had been light and heat and shadow. A dancing multilayered world of gold that was like fire and like water. First it was just a trickle, slow but steady and she could tell somehow that just beyond her reach was a reservoir too vast for her to understand. She had reach out to it, welcomed it joyfully and for a second it was everything and then it had vanished.

She had woken only an hour before to Arthur’s frantic face as he pushed the nurse’s call button. She hadn’t been able to get out of the bed and the doctors had come in to cluster about her. Examine her, poke and prod at her sensitive skin and ask questions she had no way of answering. Someone else must have come to visit her before she had woken up. She could almost still feel him in the room, like an after shadow where a bomb had gone off or like he’d left her a barely visible trail of light in case she chose to come find him. All she knew was that she had been dying and now she was not.

No one wanted to tell her anything. Uther wouldn’t speak at all. Arthur and the doctors danced around her questions. They blathered on about vitals and fluids and asked her if her pain level was too high and yes, she had never been in more pain in her life. Pain, pain from the fire that was in her blood, that had been gifted to her and now burned through her veins clearing out anything artificial. Driving forward through the network under her skin and purifying her by fire. It was the best feeling in the world.

They’d had to stuff pillows behind her back to keep her upright. She’d caught sight of her arm resting against the blankets. It was pail as new paper but streaked with ugly gray lines. Even as she watched, those lines filled with the same fire that had taken up residence in her chest. They didn’t burst into bright golden passages as she had half expected but they began to turn a bluey green. Her whole body was warm and thrumming but the doctors insisted on draping blanket after blanket over her. With every passing second the energy she had been given felt less like a gift and more her own.

She spent hours like that. Fliting in an out of consciousness cresting on a high like nothing she had ever experienced before.

…

She wanted more. She had never felt this good before in her life and it was starting to fade. As if it had explored her entire being and left residue in the places where she hurt and little bit by bit, it began to brake apart inside her. It was beginning to leave her, nothing but her own almost forgotten flame to warm her, the passing of an inferno. She slipped back into the darkness, finally feeling the numbness of the painkillers she’d been given.

…

Uther had disengaged. He hadn’t left the hospital, but he was completely removed, silent and detached. At first Arthur had tried to get through to him but inevitably found himself making all the decisions about Morgana’s care. Morgana had woken up for a while and spoken to the doctors before falling back asleep. Her eyes had shown gold the entire time. She had looked wild, like she had the eyes of an animal. It had further warped her already distorted face and made her look like a stranger to him. Her veins were still risen though the deathly gray had dissipated, now they looked like snaking vines covering her face, squeezing her neck and disappearing beneath the floral pattern of her hospital gown. Uther had just frozen standing in the corner of the room looking at his daughter like he had absolutely no idea who or what she was.

Whenever Morgana was awake the doctors were hovering over her, writing things down, murmuring to each other and running tests. While she slept, Gaius and Alice fussed over some paperwork with Arthur. It was a transfer form so that Morgana could be moved to the Greenwich Balance facility. He’d hardly known some of the answers to the questions on the letterhead. He’d sat there with them fumbling through his responses about Morgana’s medical history and current condition. He’d looked to Uther for help, but his father was staring at the closed curtain that hid their predicament from the hungry eyes of the press. When they were satisfied with his answers, Alice and Gaius had left to submit the paperwork, promising to be back soon. The entire time they where gone, no one spoke.

A few hours later Gaius returned with two men, both wearing the same Balance Foundation T-shirts that Alice had. The introduced themselves as Lancelot and Gilli. They had come to handle Morgana’s transfer to the Balance Facility in Greenwich. It took about an hour to arrange the transport; Arthur was worried about maintaining Morgana’s privacy and he’d been checking his phone for new headlines every few seconds. The Balance guy named Gilli was obviously bothered by it, but Arthur didn’t care, if Morgana was going to wake up as front page news, he was going to know about it.

They moved Morgana through the hospital without interruption, she was in the ambulance and pulling away with Arthur at her side before anyone with a camera realized they’d left her room. The drive was short, even through London traffic. When they arrived at the facility Arthur worried about being caught bringing her in, but he shouldn’t have bothered. The facility had a closed off ambulance bay and they had no problem getting Morgana to her new room. Arthur juggled admission paperwork with his phone. Uther had vanished back to his office to do damage control on the undoubtedly coming publicity. At 6am the news story broke. The most popular headline running was an un-creative “Uther Pendragon’s Daughter Struck Down with Mysterious Illness.” For two wonderful hours there wasn’t even a word about magic in any of the articles about Morgana and Arthur wondered if maybe whoever had filmed Uther’s outburst from the day before had decided not to post or share it. He was hopeful and then Okay Magazine’s online presence released the full video. So, they hadn’t decided to post or share, the former owner of the video had decided to sell.

Arthur hadn’t turned off his phone at first, it wasn’t the first time their family had been involved in scandal. He didn’t expect the out-pour that followed. There was hate pouring in from all sides. His phone was pinging constantly, from in the plastic bag full of her clothes Arthur could hear Morgana’s doing the same.

People where angry. Angry at Uther the hypocrite. Angry at Morgana for being a part of their family. Angry at the Balance Foundation for helping them. He could barely find a word of encouragement for Morgana. Anything his father was doing to cut the crisis was being drowned out by the mess of social media and the tabloids.

A new article came out from another trashy magazine with a grainy photo of Emrys speaking to Alice in the hospital lobby. The picture was very low quality, but the magazine guaranteed that it was in fact Merlin Emrys and even though the magazine was suspect at best Arthur knew it was true. If he had thought he was in the eye of a media storm before then he’d been fooling himself. It seemed like every gossip blog, magazine and newspaper on the planet had been waiting for the opportunity to publish something and Arthur guessed that stories probably sell better when they have the world’s most powerful man in the title. The involvement of Emrys took the scandal from local to global in a matter of minutes. Arthur turned off Morgana’s phone first and he was going to turn off his own too but then for the first time in nine years, the House Emrys released a public statement.

Arthur read the words over several times to be sure. When he’d seen the notification, his stomach had dropped. He was sure that the House Emrys had nothing kind to say to the Pendragon family even if its only living son had just helped them. Now he felt that he had swallowed a mouthful of dry sand. He read it again to make sure. The statement was written formally it offered support to Morgana and wished the family well without saying anything about Morgana’s condition. It was very well written, and it revealed nothing that the media didn’t know. The final words were an appeal for an end to hostilities from the press, written to sound understanding but to absolutely drip disapproval. Arthur didn’t wait to find out if it helped or hurt, he turned off his phone and sat heavily in the chair by Morgana’s bed. It was a much more comfortable chair than had been at the Hospital and he found himself fighting to stay awake.

The two men that had helped move Morgana were there darting around the room in a confusing dance setting up charts and writing things down. Arthur watched them for a few minutes. Their sure movements and unworried faces would have been soothing if Arthur understood what they were doing just a little better. Gilli, the scrawnier of the two, was still giving Arthur a subtle cold shoulder almost like he knew who Arthur was and had already determined his role in all this. Arthur couldn’t work up enough emotion to care, he was starting to just feel emptied out and exhausted. Lancelot had a kind and open face, he seemed a little less sure in his work than Gilli but also a little more confident. He was always in the room but Gilli came and went, spoke to doctors in the hall and made alterations to what it said on the small whiteboard hanging on the wall beside Morgana’s bed. Despite that, Arthur found himself paying more attention to Lancelot than the other attendant. “Are you like her Lancelot? My sister I mean.” Arthur said on a whim not really thinking about weather he actually wanted to know.

Lancelot looked at him with a friendly enough expression. “Please call be Lance, everyone here at Balance does. And to answer your question, Arthur, no I don’t have magic.”

Arthur felt guilty almost immediately, he hadn’t really thought of it as a prying question until it was already out of his mouth. It must have shown on his face because Lance added, “don’t worry about it Arthur, it makes sense that you would ask. Whenever we have a case like this Alice tries to send one rep with magic and one without. We like to think it can help make people comfortable.”

“What do you mean situations like these?” He said it almost without hearing it. He wasn’t angry at Lance, but the words came out short and bad tempered. He didn’t like thinking about their situation.

Lance answered readily enough he stopped moving around the room so he could look Arthur in the eye, “Whenever we have a new patient who doesn’t have any magic in their family. A lot of the time that can be really scary for both the patient and the family because neither really knows what’s happening. Sometimes it helps to have someone around who isn’t magic, just to remind them that it doesn’t have to separate them.”

“oh…” Arthur said intelligently and then he went back to staring at Morgana. “I don’t think the other one likes me much. What was his name again? Willy?”

“Gilli, and its not you, he just has a lot to say about self repression and its difficult for him to keep that to himself. He really is one of the best here though, he understands what its like for a lot of our patients and he really helps them.”

Arthur didn’t bother to respond; he was too busy thinking. He hadn’t really considered that this was something Morgana had done to herself until Lance had called it “self” repression. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. When had she started using magic and how could she have gotten tangled up in it to begin with? Morgana had always seemed compelled to disobey their father in a way that Arthur hadn’t understood. It was like there was something she wanted to prove by arguing. The honest truth was that Arthur had always considered her sympathy for the magic community as some kind of pompous need to appear edgy and alternative to Uther. He’d never actually considered that she might really mean it. It didn’t sit right with him. It felt almost like a betrayal. She had been hiding this huge part of herself from him for so long. Gaius had said that the XM had taken years to build up in Morgana’s system to the point of crisis.

How many years had she been lying to him? He’d spent so much time staring at her since they arrived but now, he couldn’t quite bring himself to. Lance walked over and stat down on the second chair. “I know that look,” He said, “That’s the look people get when their thinking, ‘how could she not tell me’, almost everyone gets that look at some point.” Arthur’s throat felt like it was starting to cave in, his nose itched, and his eyes stung. “Do you want to talk about it?”

In the last day or so, so many people had looked at him with pity and spoken to him like he was a child. No, he didn’t want to talk. He wanted Lancelot to leave. He wanted to say something horrible so that the guy would feel like he didn’t have a choice. He opened his mouth to say it, one of the awful kind of things he used to say when he was a child. The kind of words that had always made Morgana roll her eyes and call him a bully.

“Mr. Pendragon,” Gilli interrupted as he walked back into the room with Alice at his side, “I’ll be working with a few of the doctors here to take over your sister’s care. Alice and I will be responsible for any further transfusions that she requires.” When he’d finished speaking, they just stood there in front of him like they were waiting for something.

Gilli cleared his throat, “if you have any questions, now is a good time to ask.”

“I’m going to leave.” Arthur said. He stood up. The clock on the wall told him that it was midday and he hadn’t properly slept since Morgana had collapsed the day before. “You have everything under control here don’t you? I finished all your paperwork so you shouldn’t need me for anything.” He brushed off his shirt. He’d been wearing it for almost two full days. He needed a shower.

Alice gave him a mildly disapproving look and Gilli downright glowered, “You should probably know that the parking lot and main entrance are flooded with people and cameras.” He said. “So, unless you were planning on making a statement, you might want to stay a while longer.”

“I’ll risk it.”

…

Morgana’s days at the Balance Foundation’s Greenwich facility dragged on but also seemed to pass in the blinking of an eye. She was awake more often now. She would stay up for hours at a time and talk to the staff or have play arguments with Arthur. He never asked her the question she knew was most on his mind but that was okay. She could tell he was trying. When she had woken up for the first time in the facility it had been just after midnight and Arthur hadn’t been there. She hadn’t really expected to see Uther, but she had hoped Arthur would be at her side.

A young man named Gilli told her that Arthur had left in the afternoon but that he’d promised to be back by morning. Arthur arrived around 9 am. He had apologized for leaving her to wake up in the facility alone and Morgana could tell that he felt really guilty. Arthur apologizing, even when he was in the wrong, was about as rare as Uther apologizing, that is to say she could count on one hand how many times she’d seen it happen.

She got along with everyone on the staff that would talk to her, but she also knew that a lot of the people working at Balance were giving her a wide berth. There were mutterings outside of her sick room and the occasional irritable glance sent in her direction. She didn’t really blame them was the thing. She was Uther’s daughter, and no one hated magic the way he did. She hadn’t seen her father since she’d lost consciousness at the hospital in London proper. She didn’t expect to see him any time soon. She couldn’t imagine Uther entering a Balance Foundation facility and worse she couldn’t really imagine the security would be happy to let him in. She hadn’t bothered looking at what was being said about her online and in the tabloids since she’d realized that her poor health had made world news. That was how she had found out about Emrys’s involvement. At first she had been angry that Arthur had kept it from her, but the anger had fizzled out after a few minutes. She knew how to be grateful. Besides it offered her an interesting distraction. It was pretty obvious that while the papers were thrilled to write about her illness, they had hoped the Emrys would get just a little more involved. A week into her stay at the Balance facility she had encountered a hilarious article in a truly trashy magazine that tried to convince her Emrys was her secret lover. It had made her laugh, clearly the poor things just wanted more opportunities to put his name in their headlines. Reading the rubbish they published about him sort of became a part time obsession for her.

Her recovery had been rocky so far. At times she felt great but at others the weakness and nausea were so bad that she wished she could just be sedated. She was receiving magic transfusions from two members of the staff, Alice and Gilli, which she gathered was abnormal. It seemed that most people at the facility only had one-person work with them on that score.

She got along well with both of them. Alice was warm and mothering in a way that she couldn’t quite help but like. The woman would gossip with her when she was having a good day and spent hours at her side rubbing her back when she was miserable and ill. Alice talked about Emrys too, only she called him Merlin and after a while Morgana found herself doing the same. The casual use of his first name hadn’t even seemed odd to her. Alice had promised to let him know that Morgana wanted to thank him. She also told Morgana that it was unlikely he would come to see her. In a tone that reminded Morgana of a chiding grandmother, Alice explained that Merlin hated being the center of attention.

Alice seemed to love to talk about Merlin and Morgana decided that doting grandmother probably was the best way to describe her relationship to him. Apparently, Merlin had founded Balance but he very rarely worked with the patients. Morgana started to build an idea of Merlin in her head even though she’d never spoken to him.

Gilli, the other member of the staff that worked with her for transfusions, was something of a timid man but he clearly loved attention. Morgana had no trouble getting along with him, but she knew he wanted to talk to the press. They had died down a lot since the initial incident, but some still lurked around the facility trying to take pictures of her or get a statement from staff members. She couldn’t quite connect to Gilli like she had with Alice.

Morgana had noticed that magic belonging to different people was distinct. Each person’s power seemed to carry a different sort of something. It wasn’t as straight forward as a flavor or sent but it seemed to be totally unique to each person. She guessed that Alice was more powerful than Gilli because she always felt stronger when Alice was the one giving her transfusions. At the same time, she was sure that she would never forget the feeling that she’d had when Merlin’s magic was in her veins. Even though her own magic seemed to be waking up and growing stronger, it didn’t feel anywhere near as good as Merlin’s power. Something about it had felt so pure, Alice and Gilli’s magic both seemed to be flavored by aspects of their personalities, welcome but also alien to her. Merlin’s magic had felt like it had always been a part of her. She had tried to explain it to Alice and the old woman had smiled sadly and nodded. She’d been understanding but also hadn’t wanted to talk about it again.

“You don’t understand Arthur, it was like nothing else in the world. It was like being and feeling everything at once.” Morgana said. She already regretted getting on to the topic with her brother. There was no way he could understand what Merlin’s magic had felt like.

“It sounds painful.” He said and she rolled her eyes.

“Of course, it was painful you dolt. I was dying to begin with.”

They’d been going on like this for the last five minutes. The conversation was prompted when Morgana had found out from a member of staff that Merlin was at the facility in one of the offices. Morgana had already forgotten the girls name. She had been blushing madly and had stammered on about meeting him in the elevator and about how hansom he was in person and on and on. Morgana was busily trying to convince Arthur to track him down so she could thank him properly for saving her life. Also, so she could get a proper look at him. Alice had told her the day before that he actually had adorable, massive ears and she wanted to see for herself. Non of the crap pictures in the tabloids seemed to feature them and the elevator girl hadn’t mentioned them either.

“I’m not going wandering around the facility looking for Emrys, Morgana. There are sick people here.” Arthur said.

“Oh please, you just don’t want to admit that we have reason to be grateful. You are such a spoiled brat Arthur,” Morgana answered teasingly. “I imagen its difficult for you to feel so out matched anyway.”

“Out matched? How the hell am I out matched by him? I’m definitely bigger and stronger-“

Morgana interrupted with a cocky air. “Not so baby brother, he’s the most powerful man in the world and besides that I read that he’s taller than you. That must be difficult for you.” Arthur threw his hands up. This was just getting ridiculous.

“I’ll find him alright? You just rest here Morgana, I’m sure he can’t wait to see you. Its not like he runs this facility and has things to do.” Arthur said, “Oh no, I’ll bet the only reason he’s here at all is to see you.” Arthur turned to storm out of the room in search for someone who probably didn’t really want to see him.

“That’s what CelebsNow says!” Morgana yelled at his retreating back, waving a brightly coloured magazine in the air with one well manicured hand, “They say we’re in love Arthur! Love. As in he’d love to see me!”

Arthur wished he wouldn’t get tossed out for throwing things at his insufferable sister.

…

The halls of the Balance facility where painted white with bright blue accents. As it turned out the kid’s wing of the Balance facility had blue stars painted everywhere. Arthur was very lost and feeling a little too sheepish to ask for directions. He wandered around until he’d made it back to the main lobby. It wasn’t busy anymore. The tidal wave of reporters and paparazzi had passed a while ago. Now only a few people where there. Arthur passed a woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes on his way to the front desk. Even just passing her made Arthur uncomfortable. God help the poor bugger she was here to see. There was something very severe and unpleasant about that woman. In an odd way she reminded in of Morgana though, she had this cold kind of beauty to her. Morgana could look like that were she felt she had been wronged. Arthur shuddered, again feeling sorry for whoever was about to face that woman’s wrath because no one walked around with a look like that on their face without planning to have words with someone.

Arthur tried to put her out of his mind as he reached the front desk. The woman sitting their smiled at him, “Hello, can I help you?”

Arthur put on his best charming smile, “I’m looking for Merlin Emrys.” He wasn’t hopeful.

The woman’s face dropped, “I’m sorry sir, the Emrys is in a meeting right now.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, “I can wait… My sister was hoping to talk to him.” He hadn’t really wanted to bring up Morgana, but it seemed to get an immediate reaction.

“Miss Pendragon?” He nodded; the woman picked up a phone. “I’ll call the room and let him know, he told us to let him know if she needed anything.”

The phone call was very brief, and the woman gave him directions to an office on the top floor. As he walked away Arthur was both pleased and irritated. It seemed Emrys had taken a special interest in his sister’s recovery. He rolled his eyes, maybe the gossip rags were onto something and he would just love to see her.

…

Merlin was sitting on top of the desk in the filing room, eyes glued to a recent file and a semicircle of five other open folders around him. Morgana’s file was on his left, the one in his hand belonged to a young boy who had been admitted to Balance less that a week before. All five of the folds shared a single same phrase: ‘admitted as a result of suppression drugs – origin unknown’. He stared at the line. The tests at the hospital and even the tests at Balance had been unable to formally identify the substance that had been found in each of the five patients. Gaius had called it XM, but the other four patients blood tests had been slightly different than Morgana’s. Different enough that Merlin couldn’t quite make sense of it. It was something they hadn’t seen before, but whatever it was it had cropped up five times within the last six weeks. It was too soon to call it anything, but he already had a bad feeling.

He looked up at the sound of heels coming down the hallway. He jumped to his feet as the door swung open. She looked the same as always. Her dark hair pulled back in a heavily braided updo, her eyes an unnerving blue and a look of deep displeasure on her beautiful face. “Hello Nimueh. Why are you here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I felt a little bit like this is the chapter where I started to remember what writing looks like. I almost feel like there are two parts of my mind involved in this story. One half said, ‘I just had an idea for a fun story can you write it?’ and then the other half said ‘yes’, but three chapters in it changed its answer to ‘maybe’. I hope you guys are having fun with this ridiculous plot because I am.


	4. Aspirin and Cocaine

Merlin’s black coat felt too heavy around his small shoulders and his black shoes looked too shiny, too well polished. They were an ugly contrast against the cobblestone path to the door. He wiggled his toes uncomfortably. The manor had been in his family for generations, but it had never been home before. His father had lived there as a boy, but he moved out when he married Hunith. Merlin’s mother had found the building too big and dark, not appropriate for a family home.

Merlin’s earliest memories were set in the seaside cottage that his father had bought for Hunith after their wedding. He had visited the manor only once before and he’d been so small that he barely remembered anything other than being held by his mother and the smell of the library. Belinor had often told his son stories about his childhood home, the winding halls and secret rooms full of heirlooms and artifacts that were hundreds of years old. It was nothing like Merlin had pictured. Standing on its doorstep the manor looked enormous and unfriendly, all dark colours and towering pillars. The heavy brass door handle was a twisted shape. It reminded him of a yawning dragon waking up from its sleep, he was barely tall enough to reach it.

The woman beside him on the step was just like the manor, unfriendly, tall and dark. He could understand why she wanted to live there. She would fit in perfectly with the dark rooms, like an inhospitable ghost hovering over him in the gloom. Her pail hand reached out from her black coat and grasped the handle. The door swung open to reveal a shadowy foyer, crisp white ceilings and crisp white tiles, like the teeth in a mouth that hangs open, dislocated and broken. She strode forward into the doorway and turned around to look down at him, bracketed in the doorway like a picture in a frame. Her unsettling blue eyes meeting his and a few ringlets of her dark hair swinging down around her pail face. “Come along little Merlin,” she said offering that same pail hand, it was cold, and her long nails scratched against his skin when her fingers closed around his small wrist.

…

Nimueh strode into the office as though she owned it. As though it all belonged to her and she felt that every floor tile, light bulb and stroke of paint was worth far less than she had invested. She lifted the papers on the desk from their place beside Merlin. Her long nails scratched over the glossy words on the pages. Merlin straightened properly, several inches taller than her despite her stilettos, he didn’t want to look at her.

Nimueh’s eyes were alight with amusement as they skimmed the first few sentences of the patient file in her grasp. She clicked her tongue. “Try not to get too wrapped up in all this its not good for you.” She said turning to look at Merlin. “Your little stunt with the Pendragon girl was perfectly heroic, made you look wonderful in the media and now its time to drop it.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and snatched the folder from her hands. He made quick work of gathering up the files and stuffing them into his bag. “Why are you here?” He said again, more to fill the silence than anything else. When his fingers weren’t busy with the papers they tapped against the desk. Impatient, startled and arrhythmic taps like a confused and unpracticed dance.

She gave him a crocodile’s smile, “frankly, I was surprised I wasn’t turned away at the gate.”

She waited, her eyes on his face until he ground his teeth and said, “I never thought you’d turn up here.” His voice had gone cold and distant. “Tell me what you want and then leave…Please.”

Nimueh walked around the desk and sat comfortably in the chair. Leaning back, she was the very picture of perfect calm. “All of this,” she said, her hands weaving in a grand gesture that could have meant the room but could have meant the world too. Merlin tilted is head to the side waiting. She sighed and sat back up, pointing one imperious finger at the chair across from her, he sat. No point in arguing, best to get on with whatever business had brought her here. “I’m very worried about you my little Merlin. This mess with the Pendragon girl, all this publicity, I know how much you hate that. Its not just here either is it, its everywhere, people asking questions. Wondering what you’ve done and who you really are… Everyone’s looking at you.” She reached across the desk to take one of Merlin’s hands, his skin was cold, and he didn’t look at her. He was staring a few inches above her head, his jaw locked, one foot tapping on the floor in contrast to his otherwise completely still form. The sound of that movement filled the room through the long pause in the conversation. “It’s time to forget about Morgana Pendragon. You did the noble thing and helped her when no one else would but now you need to let it go. She’ll be fine without you; we both know your susceptible to over committing to these types of things.”

Merlin didn’t speak for a long moment. He fought the ridiculous urge to run, to put as much distance between himself and this imaginary danger as he possibly could. “You just hate her because she’s a Pendragon… you hate the Pendragons.” He looked at her, finally meeting her eyes for the first time in he couldn’t remember how long. “You want her to suffer, don’t you? If you’d been in my place, you would have left her to die.”

“What a horrible thing to say about the woman who raised you.” She stood up shaking her head, an imposing statue placed oddly in the room, tall and dark and angry. “This is exactly what I was so worried about.” She looked at him, an expression that was part pity and part contempt. “You’ve started building an imaginary bond with her.” He shook his head opening his mouth to argue but Nimueh carried on, “You know that giving away your magic can mess with your head. Now you think you care about her. She’s not a friend to you. Its residual Merlin, it will wear off and then you will realize that she’s just someone that you don’t know. Besides, all this mess is her own doing. She hates her own kind and her own magic so much that she nearly killed herself trying to get rid of it. How can you possibly want to save someone like that?”

Merlin was stuck somewhere between the embarrassment of having been accused of some kind of delusional attachment and the anger at having heard Nimueh’s opinion of Morgana. The best he could do was keep his voice steady and low. “You don’t understand.”

Nimueh through her hands up in exasperation. It was an unusually emotional response for a woman who mostly conveyed her disapproval with an eery calm. “Neither do you. You’ve spent a handful of hours with this woman and she’s been unconscious. Its high time she was out of your life”

Merlin was saved from having to respond by the sound of someone knocking on the door behind him. The knock was perfunctory at best as the door swung open immediately after without pause for permission. Arthur Pendragon was standing in the doorway haloed in the florescent lights of the hallway with a mildly resentful look on his face. Right, Merlin remembered now that he’d been expecting Arthur before Nimueh had distracted him. “Hello Arthur, please come in.” Merlin muttered waving his hand towards the room in a stiff gesture.

…

Arthur bristled at the casual use of his name. Emrys had never even pretended to bother with formalities on that front. Stepping into the room Arthur noticed the same woman that he had seen in the lobby. It was an odd dichotomy to walk in on. Emrys was sitting in the chair across from the woman, who was leaning over the desk towards him. He looked oddly diminutive, like a child being scolded. It was an uncomfortable tableau of one-sided confrontation. Arthur cleared his throat pointedly, glancing from the woman and then back to Emrys. “Hello,” He said. Emrys just sat there for another long moment before he seemed to clue in.

“Oh, Arthur, this is Nimueh Priest.” He glanced at the woman again, “This is Arthur Pendragon.”

At those words the woman’s face split into a gorgeous smile. Her teeth looked strangely sharp and something about the expression that should have been warm, seemed unfriendly. “So, this is little Arthur all grown up.” She said, “He’s handsome.”

“He looks like his father.” Emrys said dully.

“I just said that.” Her smirk unsettled Arthur so much that it took him a few seconds to realize he knew her name and then to remember why he knew her name. His skin crawled. It was unpleasant enough to be alone in a room with Emrys. Sure, he was powerful but, all told Arthur got the feeling he was a bit of a dunce. Nimueh on the other hand. Arthur had been hearing about Nimueh’s cunning and cruelty since he could remember. She smiled at him like she knew everything there was to know about him, and she pitied him for it. It was very apparent that she had no interest in actually speaking to him.

She didn’t really look old enough to be the woman Uther had warned him about but finding himself caught between two well known and powerful sorcerers left Arthur ill at ease. His struggle to adjust to Morgana’s predicament wasn’t exactly helped by Nimueh’s presence. “Sorry to interrupt.” He forced out. He looked at Emrys, doing his level best to keep the displeasure from his face. “Could I have a word with you?”

“Of course, you can Arthur. I was just about to go anyway” Nimueh said, “Isn’t that right, little Merlin.” The look that passed over Emrys’s face was pure malice. It was only there for a fraction of a second but, it startled Arthur. He thought that Emrys would refuse and demand they both leave. Before Arthur could really worry about it though the moment had passed.

“Yes, of course Arthur.” Emrys said.

As she moved past him Nimueh gave Emrys’s shoulder a squeeze and Arthur watch his knuckles turn white where he gripped the side of his chair. Definitely not a pair of people he wanted to spend a lot of time with then.

The room seemed instantly lighter when the door swung shut after Nimueh had left. Arthur turned to Emrys who was looking at him expectantly. “Well? you are the one who asked to see me. Is Morgana alright?”

“Yes, she’s fine.” Arthur replied trying to shake off the feeling that had creeped under his skin the moment he’d walked into the room. The feeling of having seen something not meant for him. “She wants to see you. To thank you for saving her I think.” Arthur bit down on the inside of his cheek.

There was something about Emrys that made him want to act badly. To show off or just be plain mean. He couldn’t explain it but every time he saw Emrys the feeling got stronger. Arthur already knew he could get a rise out of Emrys and he couldn’t quite help but push. He wasn’t intimidated like Morgana seemed to think but he was starting to feel a bit like a child looking for attention on the playground. The feeling was a bit embarrassing for a full-grown man, so Arthur was determined to keep todays interaction completely devoid of emotion or animosity. It certainly wasn’t going to be easy though. Whatever Nimueh had been doing at the facility she had clearly riled Emrys up and Arthur had to fight the urge to poke at it. It was like an itch, the desire to say something, now that he come upon a week spot. Emrys hadn’t bothered standing up from the chair and he looked up at Arthur like he was board. “Tell her she doesn’t need to thank me. If that’s all, you might as well go.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. No way was he about to just walk away after the amount of badgering he’d received from Morgana just to get him here. “Aw, not in the mood for friendly visits after having a chat with mummy?” Oops, Arthur thought. That wasn’t quite as mature and unaffected as he’d meant to be. But by God did it feel good to poke fun at whatever the hell it was he’d just walked into.

Emrys stood up to look Arthur in the eyes and something about his expression made Arthur wonder if he was counting to ten in his head. It was no where near the anger that he’d shown when Nimueh had spoken for him. In fact, Emrys was looking at him more like he was an irritating fly. Somewhere in the back of his head Arthur registered just how powerful this man was and he new he should probably shut up before he got swatted for buzzing about in his line of view. “Nimueh is not my mother.”

“Does she know that? Seemed pretty mother like to me; I mean she certainly treats you like a child.” Arthur grinned in triumph because he knew he’d hit a nerve. He half expected Emrys’s eyes to turn gold and to be thrown across the room. There was this sort of twitch across his face like he wanted to do something, make a face or maybe even bear his teeth.

Instead Emrys took a step right into Arthur’s personal space and said lowly, “And what would you know about mothers, Arthur Pendragon?” Arthur swallowed roughly. He hadn’t expected that. Emrys blinked at him stupidly for a moment, like coming out of a dream and then said, “I’m sorry, that was… unkind.”

Arthur balked, feeling stung. Not only from the barb but also from the apology. As if his ego was so fragile. “Oh, no need to apologize I can take a couple nasty words. But I see why you felt you had to, must be something to do with your delicate constitution. You know I’ve seen both Gilli and Alice give Morgana transfusions since the hospital and neither of them puked after. So, I guess that’s another scrawny bloke and an old woman that are both tougher than you.”

Emrys let out a snort of derision. He shook his head and a tiny smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. “Wow, you really want to see me get upset, don’t you?”

‘Yes actually, I really do’ Arthur thought but before he could say anything else, Emrys was walking to the door. He pushed it open and stepped out into the hallway. Arthur was hot on his heels, “Running away?” He said to Emrys’s back.

“Not at all I’m going to see Morgana, come along then.” Emrys looked over his shoulder to grin at Arthur, his eyes filled with something close to mischief.

…

It was ludicrous for Arthur, a full grown and fairly successful man at the start of a career in politics, to feel like this. The walk from the offices back to the main patient area of the Balance facility had gone by in silence but Emrys had practically reeked of smugness. A sort of unspoken ‘nener nener, I win’ because not only had Arthur failed almost entirely to get a rise of the smug son of a bitch, Emrys was even giving him his way. It was outrageous and Arthur felt like a patronized child. He was following Emrys back to Morgana’s room and he would have just loved to get in front and lead the way himself, except, well, he wasn’t totally sure how to get back. He did not need to add the extra indignity of getting lost to his current state. He was so wrapped up in his head, thinking about how this stupid forced calm Emrys had put on made him, Arthur look like winy bully that he didn’t realize when Emrys stopped walking.

The collision between the two of them was rather unremarkable. Arthur was bigger, stronger, heavier and moving with angry momentum so naturally it was enough to plow Emrys over. “What the hell are you doing?” Arthur shrieked. The whole thing was rather undignified, and he was halfway through hoping that no one had seen when he took a look around and realized what had stopped Emrys in his tracks.

They were in the hallway out-side of Morgana’s room and people were buzzing around it fliting in and out like bees each with a blue Balance shirt on. Alice was sitting by the door in one of the waiting room chairs. Her face was a shock of pail skin crumpled into a miserable expression. “What’s happened?” Arthur said struggling to his feet while Emrys did the same.

Alice was looking at Emrys. “Its not good. I’ve never seen someone’s power drop like this. I gave her all I could, but it isn’t enough.” Emrys was at her side. He looked just as worried as she did, and Arthur had a horrible sinking feeling in his guts.

The way Alice looked reminded him of Emrys right after he had been sick at the hospital albeit without some of the dramatics. He thought over what she’d said. “Is Gilli here?” He said, trying to push his way into the room past the small crowd that was starting to form. From his new position he could see inside the room and yes, Gili was there, he was holding one of Morgana’s hands and shaking terribly. Lancelot was standing at his side, it looked like he was trying to pry Morgana’s fingers off Gili’s skin. “What’s happening?”

Emrys shoved past Arthur and into the room, taking up a position on Gili’s other side right as the man wailed “She’s taking too much!” He yanked his arm back violently, but Morgana’s grip held, clamped around Gili’s paling flesh, nails cutting crescents into his skin.

The sick feeling in Arthur’s stomach doubled. This was exactly what magic had looked like in his mind growing up. Some kind of corrosive, monstrous thing that infected people, corrupted and withered them from the inside out.

Emrys walked round to the other side of the bed and took Morgana’s other hand. His eyes turned a brilliant gold. Morgana’s grip on Gili went limp and so did he, collapsing back against Lance. The hand that had been clutching at him fell back to the hospital bed then twitched. Morgana turned towards Emrys unconsciously, like a sunflower stretching to reach for the sky and Arthur understood. Morgana’s words from the morning made much more sense now. She’d told him that Emrys’s power had felt like everything at once. She had described it to him in painful technicolor detail and he still hadn’t realized. She was like an addict being offered the choice between aspirin and cocaine. She’d abandoned the weaker drug as soon as something stronger was available. Emrys was standing at her side and his eyes had slipped closed, hiding the inhuman light that had welled up there. His head was bowed, and he blanched like he was losing blood but just stayed there swaying, like a servant waiting to be dismissed. Like he thought Morgana would pull away, but Morgana was hooked into the good stuff now, drawing on the power that was offered to her like she never planned to stop.


	5. Merlins Are Birds

Magic is like a corrosive liquid that burns and destroys without shame or fear. Or perhaps more accurately, magic is like a slow acting poison that once ingested infects the victim’s blood stream and clogs up their arteries with wicked wants and selfish, malicious ideas of power. Arthur knew this to be true. He knew it in his soul, had known it all his life and he didn’t need proof. He didn’t need proof magic was evil the same way he didn’t need a mirror to know he was blond. He had already seen the evil magic could do, the way it destroyed its hosts like an insatiable parasite. 

Arthur had been accompanying his father to rallies and press conferences, had been holding up signs and joining chants since he was old enough to understand what they meant. There where pictures of him and Morgana holding signs outside of the parliament buildings when the restrictions against teaching magic had been lifted. He had been on his father’s shoulders waving a sign with one pudgy little hand while Morgana stood beside them dower-faced and silent. Morgana had never come to another of the rallies after that, but the photo had been front page news and it continued to crop up. 

The point was: Arthur knew. Arthur knew magic was evil the same way he knew how to breath. It was like knowing that the sky was blue and that the sun was yellow. Only… He couldn’t reconcile it. His long-held belief, his convictions couldn’t quite mesh with what he’d seen. It didn’t go with his world view, the whole Balance Foundation seemed contrary to what he had always known to be true, but it was still right there in front of him. 

Unsure of what to do, Arthur stood barely in the room watching the scene unfold. Lance was gently shaking Gilli but there was no response, the man was clearly unconscious. From the hallway Arthur could hear someone quietly talking to Alice, trying to reassure her. Then his eyes were caught by Morgana, she looked radiant. Her skin was hosting what almost looked like a light from within. Arthur let his eyes follow the line of contact down Morgana’s arm to where her fingers interlinked with Emrys’s. His fingers seemed to be coated in a light that sunk into Morgana’s skin. It was a shock, but Arthur supposed he’d never been so close to Morgana when she’d been going through this before. 

Arthur looked at Emrys, he didn’t look all that powerful now. He wondered if the light that hung around Morgana now normally clung to Emrys, if it did Arthur had never noticed it but maybe that was just because of its constant presence. He certainly noticed the lack of it now. He kept looking, torn between a kind of horror and a separate fascination. Back at the hospital, when Emrys had first gotten involved, Alice had stood at his side talking him through it. Without her there he seemed lost. It wasn't like Arthur really thought about it before he did it, but he helped. 

His hand was shaky when he reached for Emrys’s shoulder and when his fingers closed around the joint, Emrys flinched. His eyes didn’t exactly open, but they flickered, cracking just enough for the golden light to spill out under the fan of his lashes, colouring the tops of his cheeks like the flame of a candle. “Emrys.” Arthur said and he aimed for commanding but missed it by a mile. Emrys didn’t even flinch it was like he hadn’t heard his name called at all. 

Arthur cleared his throat and said it again. The man in front of him simply remained transfixed. His eyes open just a crack shining gold on gold as they looked down at his hand holding Morgana’s. Arthur tried to think back, what had Alice said at the hospital while this had been happening the first time. Well, she had called him by his first name. She’d sounded like a friend. Arthur cleared his throat again and this time not commanding but… friendly he tried “Merlin.”  
…

Arthur filtered into Merlin’s world slowly. It was almost a surprise to hear his own name. Like he’d forgotten it, lost in the vacuum that his power rushed to fill. He could feel a presence behind him like a little flame, a kind of energy that seemed both foreign and familiar. It almost felt like magic and it took him a long moment to place it, to realize it was Arthur. Arthur saying, “Its alright, you can stop now. You, um, you can decide to stop now.” 

And just like that, he could.  
…

Letting go of Morgana, Merlin took a step back and bumped into Arthur’s chest. Then all of a sudden, the quite bubble they had existed in dissolved and the whole world came back. He could hear ringing and the voices of a bunch of different people all talking at once and he could actually feel the colour draining from his face. Like pins and needles and being hot and cold all at once. The old familiar feel of having been scraped out from the inside struck him, hard. 

For a moment that was all it was. An unpleasant feeling of unnatural emptiness and then it was as if his whole body reacted to the feeling, repelled and rejected it so violently that he thought he might be sick. He staggered, legs threatening to give out as he made his way to the door. Conveniently, the toilets were only a few stilted steps down the hall from Morgana’s room. Inside, he rested both is palms against the sink counter and took deep breaths focusing his energy on keeping lunch where he’d put it. When the door opened again behind him, he looked up to see Arthur in the mirror and catch a glimpse of his own haggard face. “So, you’re not throwing up this time.”

He sighed, “I know its pure instinct for you to make fun of me, but I really need a minute right now. So why don’t you take a break from being a prat or at least go harass someone else for a while.” 

Arthur stood quietly behind him for a while and then said. “I’m sorry.” 

“What.” Merlin questioned, opening his eyes against the vertigo to give Arthur a puzzled look. 

Arthur shuffled uncomfortably. “I’m sorry Merlin, you’ve done a great deal to help my sister and I ought to be grateful, but I’ve treated you badly.”

“Oh.” Merlin answered, not really sure what to do with Arthur’s words and too tired to really think about it. 

The room was quite for a long moment after as Merlin put himself back together. Remembering how to function like something rebooting after a long period without use. Merlin reached into the sink and ran cold water over his hands. He focused on the feeling of his heartbeat slowing and his breathing evening out. “Why does doing that hurt you so badly?” Arthur said, and it almost made Merlin jump. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten Arthur was there exactly, but he had forgotten that Arthur was anything other than the presence that had pulled him away from Morgana. 

“I’m not hurt,” He answered without looking at the man in question. “I just need a minute.” He hoped Arthur would drop it, but he pushed on, stubborn and seemingly completely unaware of Merlin’s total lack of interest in addressing the topic. “Its like a panic attack.” Arthur said, “The way you freeze up and everything.” 

Merlin let out another long, discomforted puff of air. Finally turning to face Arthur he said, “I’m fine.” Arthur was standing sort of stiffly in front of the door and Merlin couldn’t really see a way around him so he strode straight forward and pushed past the man with the words, “If you don’t mind Arthur, this is the second time you’ve decided to corner me in the men’s room.”  
…

The thing that really made Arthur angry wasn’t that someone had tried steeling his sister’s magic. Honestly, for all he cared they could have the lot of it so long as the loss didn’t hurt her. Though he supposed it clearly had hurt her since she still hadn’t woken up by the next day. 

The attack had been labelled as an act of hate and depending on which paper you read that hate was either directed at the whole magic community or exclusively at the Pendragon family. Arthur was inclined to believe the latter. He had been forced to endure a great many conversations about Morgana’s safety after that and he’d come to the conclusion that she didn’t really have any. Just about any member of the Balance Facility could have walked in and decided to have a go at killing his sister and it wasn’t just staff either. There was also the patients and their families to consider. No, the thing that really made Arthur mad was that someone at the Balance Facility had gone to the press with the whole ordeal.

In exchange for his fifteen minutes, Gilli had told the entire story to just about anyone who would listen. While his employment at the facility had come to an abrupt end, that didn’t stop him from doing interviews explaining how, he had only stepped out for a moment while Morgana had been taking a nap and returned to find her in terrible distress. Alice’s contributions had seemingly been cut entirely from the story and Arthur didn’t really know what to do with that since he himself hadn’t been in the room while she’d been trying to help. 

As for Gilli himself, well, apparently, he was truly an incredible hero who, already at the limits of his power, had gallantly refused to pull away from Morgana until ‘The Mighty Emrys’ had arrived to take his place. Personally, Arthur could remember Gilli shrieking about how he couldn’t get away from Morgana, trying to jerk from her grasp and fainting the very second Merlin had taken over. He was desperately glad for that last part though, he was sure that if the little worm hadn’t been unconscious during it, he would have shared his perspective on whatever had transpired between Arthur and Merlin too. He wasn’t really sure why, but it was a private moment and he was protective over it. Also, ever since the rather uncomfortable chat in the men’s room, Arthur had taken to calling him Merlin instead of Emrys in his head. 

Worse than anything else about the whole mess was that it seemed to have inspired copycats. No one had actually made it to Morgana, but Arthur had already caught two people trying to sneak past security into her room. It was a little sickening to him to think that there were so many people out there that had heard of what had happened to Morgana and taken it as inspiration. When he’d tried to get the police involved, he’d found out that there was ‘no specific law against draining someone’s magic’. So, the wretched freaks he’d caught had gotten to walk right back out of the Balance Facility like nothing had happened. 

In a mood, Arthur had asked if Merlin could curse them. Merlin had given him an odd look and Arthur wondered if he was offended. They had started up something that was almost a friendship and Arthur wasn’t sure if jokes or cheeky comments about Merlin’s magic was really part of the deal. After a minute or two of silence Merlin had said, “I probably shouldn’t…” and Arthur realize the other man hadn’t actually taken it as a joke at all. 

From what Arthur could tell, Merlin wanted to move Morgana, though he hadn’t said where to. There was a stiff tension in everything at the moment and Arthur almost wished the decisions could be taken out off his hands. It wasn’t an option though. Uther had made his concerns for Morgana’s safety very clear, but Arthur got the feeling that his father was in some kind of denial. He didn’t want to see Morgana and face what she was, he just wanted to know that she was safe and looked after. Arthur could do that, he had to.  
… 

The council which Nimueh sat on did not have any other name, not in any of the new tongues at least. Nevertheless, they could be looked up in the phone book and located in one of the old parliament buildings, which they occupied almost like an office. They had another location too, much older and far less welcoming, but not just anyone could go there. 

Nimueh spent most of her time these days sitting at her beautiful desk, in her beautiful office, admiring the beautiful work she had done. As one of the most important members of the council she had one of the most beautiful views out of her office window. From that window she could also see the cluster of reporters, bloggers and general noisy buggers that always occupied the space between the street and the doors of the building. Always. 

So that’s why Merlin couldn’t go there. He didn’t fancy making his way through that crowd, as cameras flashed in his face and people yelled questions or insults or sometimes just his name, over and over till it didn’t even sound like a word to him anymore. To be fair, he didn’t really fancy seeing Nimueh either, but he needed to have a word with her. She couldn’t come to him; he had made absolutely sure of that. Like a vampire needing permission to cross the threshold, Merlin had ensured that Nimueh couldn’t enter anywhere he considered to be home and he very much doubted she would respond to a summons to any public place. So, the council’s home away from home it was.  
His car was parked a few blocks away, it wasn’t flashy, and it wouldn’t stand out. It would stay safely tucked away until he needed it. He looked down at the crowd buzzing about on the steps out front, people made so much smaller by the height. He was in luck it seemed, as today Nimueh had left the window open so he wouldn’t have to tap on the glass. 

“Well I suppose merlins are birds.” Nimueh said as a disgruntled looking falcon flew in through her window. “Though I would have thought I’d taught better manners than to just fly in unannounced.”

The bird looked at her angrily. She didn’t think birds could look angry but there’s always a first time. The Falcon shook its feathers out and in the time it took to blink, Merlin the bird had been replace by Merlin the man. His hair was wind ruffled and his clothes were askew, appearing fully clothed after shape shifting was a separate spell and Nimueh wasn’t sure if Merlin had ever actually learned it or if he had just figured out how to force it by using a tremendous amount of brute power. He was never much of a scholar; it would be like him to cut the corners and simply force things she supposed. 

Merlin curled his lip. “You can’t be surprised to see me. What, did you actually think I wouldn’t know you’re your responsible for Morgana getting sick again? Did you think I wouldn’t feel your magic all over her?” His voice was a harsh rasp of anger. 

“My, my I haven’t seen you this upset since the day you threw me out of our home. That was what, four years ago?” 

Merlin’s face twisted, “My home, you should never have been there.” 

“Oh, don’t be like that little Merlin.” Nimueh relaxed back in her chair, getting comfortable so she could properly enjoy Merlin’s tantrum. “I do so miss the manor, the windows, the halls, the books… You must get so lonely locked up in that big old manor all alone.” 

“What are you trying to win here Nimueh? All you’ve done is make things worse. Morgana was getting better she would have left and been out of my life just like you wanted if you had just left her alone!” Merlin slammed his hands down on her desk as he spoke, he couldn’t remember the last time he had voluntarily come so close to her. 

“What can I say, I thought I’d pay her a visit. She was quite powerful; I couldn’t help myself.” Nimueh grinned as she spoke. 

“No, of course not! When have you ever not given yourself something you wanted?” He spat. “Its over though Nimueh, you don’t come anywhere near her ever again. Do you hear me?” 

“This whole ordeal must be so stressful for you… and the press had just started to let off.” She leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, “I know you don’t like the attention.”

“I’m not afraid of the press Nimueh.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not, that’s why you came here in disguise or does my little Merlin still just like to pretend to be a bird?” Nimueh straightened up properly, a slow smirk spreading across her face. “We’ve been playing this game for a long time Merlin. You’ve won a few rounds along the way, the manor, your little charity. Are you sure you want to risk any of that over Uther’s bastard? The council already thinks you’re a bit unsteady.” She gave him a critical once over, “I would have thought by now you’d have figured out which of us held the power.” 

It was a little like having a spell cast over him. He went quite as though his voice had been stolen. Swallowing thickly, he stood back up and took a step back from the desk. The space between them seemed to hum uncomfortably, the residual vibrations of their raised voices. 

“I know that you own the game. We’ve been at this pretty much my whole life, I understand that you have all the pieces where you want them and I’m just some pawn your keeping in a corner out of the way.” His anger was something alive, desperate to get out and reek havoc, his magic was a swirling thing that wanted nothing more than to force its way up his throat and put an end to her. He pushed them both back and thought of Morgana, asleep but unsafe in her hospital bed. “But I’m about to start playing a whole new game, and you won’t like the rules.” There was too much tension in his body, his magic responding to his emotion and he could have kept it tamped down but instead he let it reach up into the sky and the wispy clouds coalesced into and angry gray. “I don’t care what happens to you. I don’t care what happens to me. The only one I care about right now is Morgana. As for power, well Nimueh. I don’t know if you remember but, I’m the most powerful man in the world.” 

Without another word he turned on his heel and strode through the door. He already had an audience by the time he’d reached the grand staircase. He swept down it with his head held high. Trying his best to give off the sense of ‘Yes I am The Emrys and I don’t have to give a rats furry ass about what any of you plebs think.’ Assorted members of the council had gathered, poking their heads out of offices and staring in shock at his presence. A wide rage of other people had appeared too, people who Merlin didn’t know, and he couldn’t really imagine what they where doing in there anyway, so he tried to just act like they all were beneath his notice. His skin itched with the phantom weight of eyes on him. 

When he reached the doors he paused, giving the lookers on enough time to gather rather ostentatiously on the staircase. Then when they were in position, curiously looking on, he used his magic to throw open the double doors.  
…

Cedric flicked through the photos on his camera with nothing short of genuine glee. He had been waiting for this for a long, long time. Nothing interesting ever really happened out front of the old building. No, the scandalous deals and details always went on inside. Cedric had spent the better part of the year trying to work his way inside but instead just stood on the front steps with the rest of the miserable blighters who wanted some semblance of a story. The morning had been a bust, nothing to do but take pictures of the birds that flew about the building and watch the sky turn ominous. Just after midday though, everything had turned around. 

There had been no warning before it happened, but he’d been ready. He was the first one to get the picture and what a picture it was. That first moment had been crucial. Sure, the others had gotten quick pics of Mr. Emrys walking out of the building, but Cedric was the one with the photo that every news outlet, magazine and cheep blog was going to want. He was the one who had the photo of the most powerful man in the world, framed in the arch of the double doors and haloed by the ensemble of astonished council members while his eyes glowed with a fearsome light. The man barely even looked human, more like a wrathful god on the war path with bloody murder on his face. It was truly a frightening expression. 

It was going to make him quite the pretty penny. He'd let the journalist squabble over what Mr. Emrys had been doing there to begin with because it didn’t even matter. Photos of the guy were few and far between as it was, but Cedric’s photo was even more special. It was damn near priceless, because it was the first ever photograph of the most powerful man in the world actually using his power. Those golden eyes were going to make Cedric rich. Even in a photograph those eyes were otherworldly, eery and they screamed raw power. They would fetch quite a pretty penny indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been reading this story, I’ve been having a lot of fun writing it and I hope its just as fun for you to read! And an extra thank you to those who have taken the time to write to me, I greatly appreciate your encouragement!


	6. The Unwelcome Wagon

The thing about spending most of your life devoutly hiding from the attention of the media is that they seem to really freak out if you engage with them at any point later down the line. Or maybe that was only true if a large portion of the population was absolutely terrified of you. Merlin wouldn’t know, he could only speak from his own experience. Seeing his face everywhere was disconcerting, he’d heard his name on the news and in the tabloids more in the past few weeks than he probably had in the last year. There was something odd about his position in the world that seemed to place him in a gray area between a political figure and a celebrity. Which mostly seemed to mean that legitimate news outlets felt entitled to talk about him just as much as the trashy gossip rags did. 

The prevailing theory was that he and the council where having some kind of spat over his involvement with Morgana and he supposed to a certain extent that was true. There were a few sensationalists that amongst their ravings, predicted he was spiraling horribly out of control and was a danger to society. They’re doom laden reports painted him as either a loose cannon or a maniacal lunatic. He had gotten used to comments like that at a very young age because that sentiment seemed to be an after effect for most people when face with someone very young and very powerful. If anything, it only made him more tight-fisted about when he actually used his magic. Normally, the insinuation that he either couldn’t or didn’t bother to control his power was a constant irritant in the back of his mind. 

This was different though, not because the comments were things he hadn’t heard before but because he had invited it. He’d never use magic in front of cameras before but now there was a photo floating about, passed from one outlet to another. The fact that he could get this much attention for essentially opening a door was more than a little ridiculous. He had to keep reminding himself that this had been what he’d wanted. Nevertheless, he was tired of seeing the pictures of him leaving the council’s office. People magazine’s front page the next morning had depicted him at the doors, staring out at the crowd with and unpleasant, set expression, the gold still sparking in his eyes. The words ‘This Is What Power Looks Like’ had been scrawled across the top. As far as he was concerned it was an ugly expression and he couldn’t really understand why so many people where so excited by it. Honestly, they would be selling posters next. 

Merlin dragged his wandering mind back to the dubious privacy of Morgana’s hospital room and the conversation at hand. Arthur was angry, he had to make Arthur happy again. He wasn’t entirely sure how or why that had become his job, but he guessed it was going to be vital if he wanted to get his way. In the last day or two Arthur had sunk his teeth into his disapproval of the council. He treated Merlin with a distinct air of ‘you’re one of them’, which Merlin would have objected to quite fervently if he didn’t hate the whole idea of explaining the situation to anyone. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what Arthur’s big problem was though, Morgana would be both safer and more comfortable at the manor. Those facts hadn’t stopped Arthur from exploding the moment Merlin had suggested Morgana come to say with him. For the better part of the argument, Merlin had remained placid. Arthur was the only one to raise his voice until the topic just seemed to switch. The thing was Merlin never saw it coming, he’d gotten so used to thinking of Arthur as Morgana’s protective brother that he’d almost forgotten that Arthur was also Uther’s son. The realization came screaming back to him with the words, “Just because my father isn’t currently in a strong political position-” 

Arthur had clearly meant for it to be the beginning of a tirade, but Merlin cut him off, “Not currently in a strong political position?” He repeated in disbelief. “Your father is a disgraced politician and he should be in prison! If not for all his new energy bullshit than for manufacturing XM to begin with!” 

Arthur jumped to his feat, “Why? Because you and your council say so? I know that his new energy thesis stepped on your toes but thanks to you-“

“Stepped on my toes?” Merlin saw red, a familiar, ugly misery waking up in his gut and twisting its way into the shape of anger. “Have you ever even read that wretched thing? The whole paper is utterly insane!” It was true, Uther’s ‘New Energy Thesis’ had been published when Merlin was fourteen, only a few months after he had been tested on the Sigan Scale and the memory of it still made him recoil. “He didn’t write about using people with magic for energy, he wrote about me, how he could use me like a battery until my power dried up! He used my full name! He even wrote a whole chapter about how it wouldn’t be a human rights violation because I shouldn’t be allowed to count as human! We’re lucky he’ll never have another seat in office because at least that means his psychotic raving isn’t allowed in public!”

“You mean your lucky!” Arthur hissed, his jaw was set in a stubborn line and his eyes flashed in anger. He was barely even hearing the words Merlin was saying. He knew, just knew that he was going to regret something he said but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. All he could think about was the idea of Merlin taking Morgana away. “You tried to destroy my father’s career and now your coming after him and our family again!”

Merlin rolled his eyes and let out a bitter laugh. “What have I ever done to attack Uther? He’s the one who came after me! It’s not my fault that people didn’t agree with his bullshit!” Merlin took a second to look at Arthur’s fuming face, “Do you have any idea what having magic drained out of you feels like? Why don’t you ask Morgana, because thanks to your daddy’s miracle drug, she knows!” Merlin made an angry gesture at Morgana ‘s prone form, still and unaware. 

When Arthur didn’t answer Merlin pushed on, “Just take a second to think back about all the horrible things your father has said about people like me, then imagine he’s saying them about you because that’s how Morgana grew up!” Arthur sort of flinched at the words and Merlin wondered if he really was casting his mind back to Uther’s words. “If being exposed to that kind of hatred isn’t abuse, then what is? Where did Morgana even get XM from anyway? You can’t bye it anywhere, it was banned because they proved it was poison, oh wait your father invented it!” 

That certainly got Arthur’s attention. His head jerked up from looking at Morgana to snarl at Merlin, “My father wasn’t giving Morgana XM! He loves her!” 

“Really?” Merlin answered. “Are you sure, because he sure hasn’t visited her yet, has he?”

Arthur scoffed and looked away. “As if he’d be welcome here…” 

“It’s not like he’s been band from the building Arthur,” Merlin pushed, “he hasn’t even tried to see her.” They both went quiet. Merlin was still glaring ferociously at Arthur, but Arthur’s mind was elsewhere. Merlin didn’t need to know how right he was. There was absolutely no reason to tell Merlin that Uther had been distant and strange ever since they had found out about Morgana. Merlin didn’t need to know that Arthur was worried that even if Morgana recovered from her illness, Uther would never recover from the idea of her betrayal. He knew that no matter what happened Uther would never change his mind about magic. Maybe she couldn’t ever really come home. 

Merlin sighed and Arthur watched him from the corner of his eye as he ran a hand through already messy dark hair. ‘Oh yes,’ Arthur thought ‘Here he is, the most powerful clumsy idiot in the world’. They hadn’t even gotten properly comfortable around each other yet and Arthur had already lost track of how many times Merlin had fallen over himself or said something utterly idiotic. Arthur has spent hours on end researching Morgana’s condition, harassing doctors at the facility and trying desperately to get a grip on what was actually happening to her. None of it was all that helpful. Some of his research said that Morgana’s treatment was no different than a blood transfusion with no greater effect on the donner then giving blood. Others told him that the act of infusing someone with your magic created a kind of bond between the donor and the recipient. He couldn’t seem to convince anyone to confirm or deny either version. He hadn’t asked Merlin though, it had felt too odd, he ground his teeth together as he thought it over. “I heard that giving Morgana your magic made you attached to her. Is this part of that? Are you… in love with her? Do you want to, I don’t know, lock her in a tower or something? Cause you hear about warlocks doing that a lot in fairy tales. I’m not going to let you take Morgana somewhere I can’t follow. She’s my sister.” 

Merlin stared at Arthur for a long time like he was trying to decide how seriously he could possibly take a man that had just suggested he had a secret tower for locking away potential girlfriends. He coughed, or it might have been a stifled laugh but regardless when he spoke, he did his best to treat Arthur’s worry with compassion rather than ridicule. “I’m not in love with Morgana, that’s not what its like. I just feel like I know her, and it makes me want to look after her. That’s all.” Merlin took a breath, “I don’t want to take your sister away from you. I know you love her. I just think she would be safer if she stayed with me while she recovered.” 

Arthur let Merlin’s words sink in. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea, besides there was Merlin’s tendency to toss cookies whenever he gave magic to consider. Someone would have to be there to regulate that. “Who would help you?” He asked and when Merlin just looked at him blankly Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically, if he had to spell it out, he would. “I mean come on, you can’t do the magic trade thing without-“ Arthur stopped, he had been planning to say something along the lines of ‘without turning into a big girl’ but he remembered that they weren’t really arguing anymore at the last second. “Without getting worked up…”

Merlin looked away and shrugged. His mouth set into a harsh line between words as he spoke, “Alice maybe… It won’t be as difficult now, Morgana won’t,” He paused to choose the right words. “Well, she doesn’t need my magic as much now, her own is getting stronger.”

“I’ll do it.”, Arthur’s mouth twitched before he spoke, a little surprised to hear the words coming out of him. 

Merlin’s brow crinkled in what looked less like confusion and more like horror. “Um… what exactly is it you intend to do.”

Arthur huffed in exasperation. “I’ll help you, so you don’t get carried away or whatever.” He watched Merlin’s eyes do an interesting widening and squinting dance at the suggestion, “I can come to the manor, right?” He added, feeling annoyed that he had to ask, “You’re not going to take her there and tell me I can’t come in. I’ll visit every week, or every day, however often Morgana needs magic.” His voice was steady, and he realize only as he talked that this was his plan. That he wouldn’t budge on the topic and that if Merlin didn’t wipe that startled, constipated look off his face soon, he would do it for him. “Don’t look at me like that, I helped before, you know I can do it. Its not like its difficult, all I had to do was tell you to stop.” 

Merlin blinked. It looked a little like the thought was causing him physical pain. “Right.” He said slowly. 

Arthur raised his eyebrows, “So you agree then?” He pushed, taking a step into Merlin’s space. “Morgana will come to live at the manor while she recovers, on the condition that I can come see her and help you with the magic transfusions.” He held out his hand for Merlin to shake and when the other man hesitated, he added, “It’s a pretty reasonable deal.”  
…

So, the important thing to remember was that he had gotten what he wanted. Merlin kept reminding himself of that as he guided Arthur through his home. The council had been silent and angry over his decision. He was, if truth be told, a little uncomfortable with it himself, but it was too late to change his mind now. Most of the estates that belonged to the House Emrys were open to the public for tours at some point or another in their history, but not the manor. As far as Merlin knew, Arthur might be the only person other than his mother without magic to have cross the threshold. Arthur hadn’t said much since he’d arrived, and Merlin didn’t know what Arthur had told Uther about moving Morgana, but he guessed it wasn’t a fun conversation. He’d made sure to open all the curtains and windows; it made the place look less gloomy.  
He was pretty confident Arthur still found it creepy. The manor was grand in the way only old places can be, not just because of the architecture or décor but also something to do with the atmosphere, the smell, the history that was baked into the walls. 

The thing was, after less than a full hour in the place Arthur was sure that Morgana would love it. Arthur didn’t know if he could adjust to it, but there was something about the place that he could only describe as magic. The whole building was ancient and beautiful. He could imagine her exploring it like a child. Searching for secret passageways and hidden doors. They had picked a room for Morgana in the morning, the bedrooms were massive, opulent, regal even, and Arthur had been hard pressed to decide which Morgana would like most. Morgana could be very happy here. The manor seemed to run on the same kind of energy that she did. 

Lancelot and a new helper from the Balance facility arrived to help move Morgana and get her settled in the room. They both seemed awestruck by the manor and Arthur couldn’t really blame them. The Balance workers had been pretty reluctant to leave once Morgana had be set up in her new room and to Arthur’s surprise their eagerness to stay seemed to greatly lift Merlin’s spirit. “Don’t get a lot of visitors do you?” 

“Shut up.” Merlin convinced them to stay for tea and Arthur had a feeling if he didn’t intervene Merlin might ask them to move in too. Arthur chased them away after an hour or two. They had discussed it at length and Merlin figured that Morgana would do best to receive a transfusion of magic in the afternoon and he had agreed to let Arthur try to guide him through it. They both became antsy as the day drew on neither in any particular hurry. Eventually Arthur clapped his hands together, “Right let’s go, better to get it over with.” 

Merlin gave Arthur a look that he couldn’t quite read. “All you have to do is stand there, but sure.” He was fidgety all the way to Morgana’s room and they stood at the door and looked at each other. “Alright,” Merlin said as he pushed the door open.

Morgana was laid out on the bed, sleeping soundly. There was an unhealthy pallor to her face but for the most part she seemed alright. Merlin walked over to the bed and turned to look curiously at Arthur who had stopped to riffle through one of the bags he’d brought when they moved Morgana. 

“What’s that.” He said as Arthur drew something out of the bag. 

“It’s a bucket, you know, in case you puke.” Arthur grinned, brandishing what seemed to be a red sand bucket more suited for building castles at the beach.

“Thanks Arthur, that’s so considerate.” Merlin deadpanned. He wasn’t sure if he was a little offended or if he wanted to laugh. In a way it had broken the strange tension that had filled the room. Arthur strode over to the bed as Merlin sat on the edge, taking Morgana’s hand and closing his eyes he said, “I’m not going to need a bucket.”  
… 

Merlin was sitting on the couch, the bucket clutched to his chest and his head resting heavily on Arthur’s shoulder. He hadn’t been sick, it was just that, Arthur might have had the right idea with the bucket. There was a low nausea that wouldn’t leave him. Arthur was doing his best to be accommodating to Merlin while he wasn’t feeling well but apparently that meant allowing himself to be used as a pillow. Which was odd for a great many reasons, including the fact that when they had first met, they had been disgusted by the idea of so much as touching each other. 

He huffed and moved again trying to get into a better position. “This couch is incredibly uncomfortable,” He grumbled, and Merlin raised his head to glower at him. “No, really I am actually impressed by the lack of comfort.” 

Merlin rolled his eyes and straightened up so that he wasn’t resting against Arthur. “Yeah, I keep meaning to replace it but it’s like 400 years old and I always feel bad…”

Arthur gave a low energy laugh, “I bet your ancestors would forgive you for getting new furniture.”

Merlin hummed exhaustedly, “You don’t know them like I do.”  
…

Merlin was downstairs sorting through paperwork for the Balance foundation. The amount of publicity they had received in the days since Morgana had been moved to the manor had done a great deal for donations. He had turned down a lot of requests for interviews lately, doing his best to handle things with a flurry of press releases. Merlin had spent most of his time in the last month or so either dealing with Arthur and Morgana or dealing with the publicity that had followed them from the hospital to the Balance facility, and now to the gates of the manor. He’d been trying to keep an eye on the cases that were similar to Morgana’s that had filtered into the Balance facility shortly after she had but he had less and less time. 

He was shuffling through a set of patient files; each having arrived with a similar compound to XM in their systems when Morgana woke up. “Hello?” A woman’s voice echoed from up stairs. 

It was inevitable. Merlin had even been expecting it, but he had imagined that Arthur would be there when it happened. Arthur wasn’t there. “Hello?” She called again, and Merlin stood from his seat. He took the stairs two at a time. Stopping at the door, he decided to knock rather than just barge in. 

With her permission he stepped inside. Morgana was sitting in the middle of the bed. She had taken the red blanket that Arthur had laid at the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself like a protective shall. She didn’t look small or unsure as he’d thought she might. She sat straight backed, her face a pale mask of calm surrounded by the dark ringlets of her hair. Morgana looked at Merlin imperiously before she tilted her head to the side, intently studying his face. 

In some ways he was exactly what Morgana had imagined. He was tall and fair skinned with jet black hair. More than that, she could almost feel an aura of power around him. If she hadn’t experienced it firsthand, she didn’t think she would have realized it was magic. Maybe in a different world it would have just been something about him, intangible and strange that just made him special. It didn’t surprise her. 

On the other hand, he was somehow unimposing in a way that she would have never guessed. She had always imagined that a man like him would fill a room with his presence alone, all showmanship, pedigree and pride. Instead, he was just a man in the doorway, looking at her with a mix of trepidation and hope. The enormous ears she had been promised didn’t quite live up to her dumbo inspired expectations, but they did impact the overall effect. She supposed without them he would be quite handsome indeed, but they sweetened his face, made him look younger and maybe a little dopey too. They made her want to smile. “Merlin?” She asked. 

“Hello Morgana, how are you feeling?”

“I’m well,” Morgana replied as she glanced about the unfamiliar room. It was far too grand for a hospital despite the medical equipment scattered throughout. “But where am I?” 

“This is Ambrosius House, its where I live.” Merlin sounded a little unsure of his answer, or maybe it was her reaction he was worried about. “Arthur and I thought you might do better if you recovered here rather than at Balance.”

They looked at each other. It was odd to have this conversation here, he wanted to invite her down the stairs, but Merlin reasoned that Morgana was probably uncomfortable in the hospital gown, “Arthur brought some clothes for you.” He offered, “If you want, I could give you a minute to get dressed.”

Morgana gathered the blanket more tightly around herself, “Yes, alright.” 

Merlin nodded, “I’ll just be downstairs, if you need anything you can just yell.” Once he was out of the room, she finally took a second to get a proper look around. There were a few bags in the corner that she guessed had her clothes in them. She was right, the first bag was filled with clothes from her closet back home. It was almost everything she owned that could be considered either soft or fuzzy. Morgana stifled a laugh at the idea of Arthur rummaging through her closet for them and making all his selections based on their feel. She dressed in a green sweater and jeans before stepping out into the hallway. 

It wasn’t like Morgana hadn’t spent her fair share of time in the stately old homes of dignitaries and the absurdly wealthy, but Ambrosius House hummed with a kind of energy that resonated with her. Her discomfort at having woken in a strange place had mostly faded by the time she’d reached the stairs. Merlin was sitting on the bottom step waiting for her. 

“Hi.” She said, and he looked up.

“Hi,” Merlin answered.

Morgana followed Merlin to a room full of what she could only assume was antique furniture and they sat across from each other in less than comfortable armchairs. “So, I think you’ll probably need to stay here for a while longer… Its not like you can’t leave if you want to, its just it would probably be easier.”

There was something indignant about being moved about like that. Placed in whatever part of the world that her brother and apparently Merlin deemed fit, without being consulted or even informed. Maybe it wasn’t fair to feel that way, but it lingered in the back of her mind only softened by the knowledge it wouldn’t have been an easy choice for Arthur to make. 

She still wanted to recoil or maybe be offended at having been treated like a child but much like her reaction to the manor itself, there was something about Merlin. She supposed, after consideration that the feeling was a lot like trust and a little like comfort. With that in mind, she shrugged off the vague annoyance of finding herself his indefinite house guest. She had wanted to meat him for a while now, it was time to open a dialogue. “I think we should get to know each other.” She said. “Though, I’ve felt your magic and if I understand correctly that’s almost like some raw part of you.” Her eyes took on a distant quality as she spoke, “That’s how it feels for me at least. I already know the taste of you, I think. I believe that you are a very kind person Merlin.” She shook her head like coming out of a trance. It hadn’t been easy to learn about him through news papers and magazines, she wondered if he would answer her questions now that they where face to face. “But that’s not really knowing you right? Right, so, what’s your full name.” 

He chewed on his bottom lip for a second, “Its long, probably best to just call me Merlin Ambrosius. If you like you can call me Merlin Emrys but that’s not actually right, its just what most people think. They confuse my family’s myth with my family name.” He shrugged non-committedly. “depending on the linguistics they mean the same thing, but I prefer Ambrosius if its all the same to you. Do you prefer Pendragon or Le Fay?” 

“At the moment Merlin, I’m not sure if I’m welcome to the name Pendragon, so, I would say its Morgana Le Fay.” She shifted in the uncomfortable chair. “How can it be the House Emrys if your proper name is Ambrosius.” 

“Someday a very powerful sorcerer will be born to the Ambrosius line and he’ll fulfill some kind of grand destiny and the people will call him Emrys. It mean’s ‘immortal one’ or something to that effect. So, the house is named after someone who hasn’t been born yet. Sometimes people call me The Emrys because I’m the most powerful living member of my bloodline, but that would be true even if I had no magic because there’s no one else. A lot of different people in my family history have been called Emrys at some point or another.” 

Merlin didn’t ask her a question in return, he looked a bit resigned as though he had determined to answer her questions, but he didn’t like it. Maybe it would be better to stick to questions about him rather than his pedigree. “Do you have any tattoos?”

There was a surprised pause. “No, I do not.” Merlin waited uncomfortably before saying, “Do you?”

“No, neither do I.” Morgana said as she straightened up with a grin, there was no reason this couldn’t be fun. 

“Then why would you ask that?” 

“Tell me something embarrassing about yourself.” She replied. 

Torn between reactions, Merlin let out a short bark of laughter, more or less just happy not to have her upset with him. “Alright, well...” He cast about for a story, something stupid and harmless. “Once when I was little, I got really lonely so, when no one was around I turned myself into a bird so I could try to find a flock to join.” As soon as he’d said it, he kind of wanted to take it back. Morgana was blinking at him rather strangely. He cleared his throat and pushed on, “But they didn’t really want me either. I think the other birds could tell I wasn’t one of them, they all kept looking at me and then each other like ‘hey, there’s something really off with this new guy’. So, now I only turn into solitary birds. I mean that’s pretty embarrassing right; Being rejected by a bunch of birds.” 

Merlin shrugged, dragging his gaze back up from his shoes where it had dropped halfway through the story. The dumbfounded look on Morgana’s face was comical in its own right. Slowly she said, “So, you think your plan failed because the birds could tell? Wait, you can just turn yourself into a bird?” She sounded a little amused and a little hysterical. 

“Sure, shapeshifting has always come easily to me… and I don’t think that they knew I was human, just that they could tell I wasn’t one of them.” 

“Oh.” She nodded, and then after a moment she said, “Can you turn yourself into anything you want?”

“Pretty much, well, anything living. I can’t just turn myself into a chair, if I did I think I’d die or at least get stuck that way, because a chair probably doesn’t have the presence of mind to turn itself back into what it used to be right?” She was staring at him with a sort of delight, happy and un-anxious for the first time since he'd met her and he really wanted her to keep looking like that, so he said, “Do you want to see?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a very long history of Merlin shape shifting, particularly into birds. In some stories he actually gets stuck as a black bird. Its a little surprising to me that it didn't feature more heavily in the show. Regardless, I just love the idea of Merlin doing stupid magic tricks and turning into random animals for the sole purpose of entertaining Morgana.


	7. Chapter Seven: The Lions and Tigers We Bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Remember that tag for ‘Major Illness’? That’s back in a big way for this chapter and considering the current situation I thought I should make a note. Forewarned is Forearmed after all! I’m just so excited to finally have Morgana back as an active character in the story after being out of action for so long!)

Morgana had never actually seen magic up close. Well except for her own accidental and disastrous use of it. Uther’s hatred had dominated her life for so long. She could remember the first time that magic had welled up inside of her the same way people always seem to remember where they were standing or what they where doing in the exact moment of a tragedy. ‘I was here when this happened, or I was there when that happened’. Morgana had been in her room, home alone and dressed in her pajamas. She’d been getting ready for bed, irritated by something Uther had said. Then she remembered the sudden feeling of being filled with lightning and the mirror shattering in a spray of flying glass. She had almost been sick from terror. 

The magic in front of her now was nothing like that. It was the polar opposite of everything she had ever experienced. This magic was free and joyful and something deep inside of her rose up and begged to be part of it. Merlin was a falcon escaping from the collar of his shirt as his clothes fell to the floor in a pile. It was as ridiculous as it was impressive, and he flitted around the room in little circles. Then he was a cat perched atop the back of the couch and looking at her with shimmering liquid eyes. 

The cat stretched in a long languid movement before he began to strut across the top of the couch getting bigger as he walked. When he jumped down to the floor, Morgana found herself looking at a full-grown lion. He shook out his dark main and yawned displaying an awe-inspiring set of sharp, gleaming teeth. Without thinking, Morgana reached out to touch because she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. Her shaking fingers tangled in fur and she let out a startled laugh to which the lion made a little huffing noise in response. She got the feeling Merlin was laughing with her. He jumped up onto the couch rocking it with his weight and making the antique piece of furniture groan ominously. Merlin reached out with one enormous paw and patted Morgana on the shoulder.

There was a clatter from down the hall, the sound of the front door opening and shutting again. Morgana’s brow wrinkled, she’d expected Arthur to come by and sooner rather than later, but she hadn’t expected him to have a key. She looked back at Merlin and he blinked at her, big eyes framed in a ferocious feline face. Arthur’s footsteps echoed down the hall as he approached. Morgana turned her head to see the doorway he’d come through. 

Arthur walked in, mouth open to speak and then he stopped. “What?” His voice was high and alarmed. 

Merlin tilted his head to the side and roared.

… 

The tea clasped in Arthurs hands had gone cold. The uncomfortable couch had suffered a long claw mark as the lion had jumped off it and now Arthur was staring at the jagged slit in the fabric. His mind still filled with the image of long claws and lean muscle sauntering out of the room with a pile of empty clothes clamped in a mouth full of great teeth. An unspoken air of ‘I’ll give you two a moment’ trailing after a swishing tail. And lastly the delighted shriek and giggle Morgana had let out when the beast had roared. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so happy before. He wanted to hug her, but they had never shared that kind of closeness and now the moment had passed, and his tea had gone cold. He’d never seen a lion so close up before. 

Merlin hadn’t returned since he’d walked in fully clothed, with nothing particularly lion like about him, carrying a steaming tray of tea. He’d caught sight of the couch’s torn fabric and gave it a self-satisfied smirk. Arthur let out a breath and looked at his sister. Morgana smiled at him and it was a little strange. “So, your staying here…for a while I mean.” He shrugged, “Until your better.”  
“Yes, Merlin and I talked bout it,” She looked at him. “I’m surprised to see you here Arthur. I’m surprised that you have a key.”

“Oh that, well, I’ve been coming and going often enough.” He rolled his eyes at her expression. “You didn’t think I’d just abandon you, did you.” He stiffened a little, “Did you?” 

She shook her head. “No Arthur I didn’t think you would abandon me.” And there was that moment again, he should reach out and hug her, Merlin would have. Completely unaware or uncaring of what was appropriate, Arthur didn’t though. Instead he smiled at her, happy to have her back. 

…  
It took days but Morgana explored the manor. Except that didn’t cover it. The word explore was neither grand enough nor exciting enough to describe her adventures within the manor. Every where she turned there was something new and enchanting. Secret passageways that became short cuts from place to place, grand rooms filled with glimmering chandeliers, ancient mirrors and the feel of magic. 

Down several flights of stairs and through a series of twisting halls she had found a massive room full of clothes. She walked through running her hands over the edges of brightly coloured clothing. They were probably family heirlooms, rich fabrics and fantastical silhouettes like the still ghosts of a ball long past. The styles probably ranged back a few hundred years. Jewels caught the light and sparkled at every angle. She could have spent days there and never see it all. She sat down on a creaky stool and admired her surroundings. The room itself was nothing to be that impressed by. Especially not when compared to other rooms in the house, it was dark and undecorated, but it was massive and absolutely filled with riches. She felt almost as if she had stumbled onto the hiding place of a pirate’s treasure, there was certainly enough gold, diamonds and jewels to qualify. “Morgana?” 

Merlin’s voice was almost drowned out by the sheer distance it had to travel from his place at the door to where Morgana was sitting admiring a silvery white dress bedecking a lucky mannequin. She could have sworn she’d seen that dress before, in a photo, maybe from a magazine. She imagined a dark-haired beauty with stormy blue eyes, a woman with a slight smile that said, ‘I know something you don’t’ and it hit her. She turned away from Hunith’s wedding dress and started making her way back through the maze towards Merlin’s voice. “What is this place?” Morgana called over the walls of silk, taffeta, velvet and tule. 

She rounded a corner marked by a dark evening gown. Merlin was leaning against the open-door frame staring at her as though she had completely lost her mind. “It’s a really big closet Morgana.”  
“Yes, I rather guessed as much thanks.”

Merlin rolled his eyes as he walked into the room, stopping to take up the delicate lace sleeve of another dress. “People in my family never like to get rid of things, we hang onto anything remotely shiny.”

In her first week at the manor Morgana had realized that Merlin only really lived in a few of the rooms. He flitted from his bedroom to the kitchen and down to the main drawing room in a little circuit. Morgana had the unpleasant feeling that he didn’t actually like the manor very much. It was just where he lived. Every once and a while, when they were in the drawing room together Morgana caught Merlin fiddling with the rip in the couch as though he wanted to grab hold and rend the entire thing. It was odd, not the only odd thing about her host but at this point the only one that set Morgana ill at ease. 

Something about the room made Morgana feel bolder though, made it easy to ask questions. She had the sense that within all their combined histories surely these relics had heard far worse than anything she or Merlin could say. It was a sense of being well grounded in the present where nothing was revolutionary, and it had all been said and done before. So, she started asking in earnest, all the questions she’d been storing up but hadn’t had the guts to say started to spill out and to her surprise they weren’t questions about Merlin. They were questions about the world.

Suddenly Morgana found herself sitting on the floor across from the most powerful man in the world surrounded by what was likely the world’s most fantastical dress-up box talking about life and what life was going to be now. Now that everyone knew what she was, and her secrets were common knowledge or shocking truths smeared across headlines. For a moment none of it mattered because just like the situation itself, everything was utterly ridiculous, but moments are famous for passing quickly. 

“What do people think of me?” she hazarded after a while, knowing it sounded weak and childish and not caring in the least. 

Merlin didn’t answer right away. There was a puzzled puppy dog look on his face warning Morgana that he didn’t know where to start. “I think,” he said slowly, “for the most part people don’t know what to think of you.” He nodded to himself. “And of course, there are people on both sides that are terrible and don’t think very well of you, but most people are just very curious. You’re the most exciting thing going on right now.” 

Morgana let that sink in. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already known but it was nice to hear some one say it out loud. “The thing to remember,” Merlin added, and he was different now more solid, completely sure, “Is that the people who have already made up their minds about you would have done that no matter what you did. Some people are like that and I think their worse for it, it makes them either frightened or naïve.” 

Morgana blinked. The shift in personality that Merlin could display amazed her. One second, he was Merlin who did magic tricks to make her laugh and the next without any real warning he was the Emrys, serious and wise. When she was with Merlin, she felt safe, he was like a dear friend, someone she knew far better than she had any right to, considering how little time they’d known one another. Something that was strange but alright anyway. In the presence of Emrys though, she felt very, very powerful. Like there was a voice in the back of her mind saying, ‘I’m like you’. The privileged she supposed was to know Merlin because anyone could be awed by Emrys and Merlin was both. 

Merlin lived his life like a shadow though. Morgana had spent weeks looking him up, researching the man who had saved her life as though she meant to write a novel and yet learned next to nothing about him. He existed and people knew about it, some people where excited by him while others where disdainful of his power and it was easy for people to make those judgments because Merlin never added anything to the conversation. As far as the vast public was concerned, Merlin was more an illusive idea that people were philosophical about than an actual person. “Why do we do this.” She said and only for a moment hoped that Merlin could read her mind because she didn’t fancy trying to verbalize the thought. 

He looked at her blankly. No joy there then. “I mean look at us. They don’t burn witches in the square anymore but we’re still hiding.” Once it was out it was an unstoppable thought. “I have spent the majority of my life trying to kill off the thing that makes me special and you, you avoid people like you think they’ll lynch you for breathing. You’re not happy and neither am I because we’re sitting on our backsides letting the world tell stories about us. Why do we do that?” 

Never during her speech did she stop to think ‘maybe I don’t know you well enough to say this to you’ but maybe she should have. He looked a little shocked and a little stung, like her words had struck a chord that he hadn’t wanted anyone to touch. She wanted to wrap a blanket around him. His lips moved silently and then he tried, “I don’t know.” His gazed dropped away from her like that of a child who had been caught lying.

Morgana hurriedly grabbed something off a hanger to her left and draped it over Merlin’s shoulders. It was a ladies shawl that was beautifully embordered, probably a hundred years old and certainly due more respect. It looked very odd on a man in plain clothes, a strange clash of colour and texture. Merlin looked down at it and started to laugh. 

The sound made Morgana feel free to speak again, her transgression on his privacy forgiven. “I don’t want to live like a ghost. I won’t tell you what to do with your life, but I want to get my two cents in before everybody makes up their mind about me.” Merlin nodded without really looking at her an expression on his face that indicated he’d thought that was a foregone conclusion. Morgana gave into an instinct and hugged him. 

…

Morgana met Mordred by accident. As it turned out Merlin had a lot of questions about XM. He had a folder full of cases that were similar to Morgana’s and one of them was Mordred. The boy had been brought in by strangers and they hadn’t been able to locate a guardian. He was in and out of consciousness every few days and apparently Merlin visited him whenever he woke up.  
Morgana only found out because she had been with Merlin when he got the call from the Balance facility. One minute he’d been shifting through paperwork quietly and companionably in the drawing room with Morgana and the next he was in a rush. Morgana had offered to go with him and that was how she met Mordred.

He was young and skinny, with big strange eyes that seemed to look into her soul, and she loved him at once. His condition wasn’t entirely like Morgana’s. There was something different in a subtle way. Now that she knew about the other cases, Merlin talked about them almost constantly. He didn’t understand why the other patients hadn’t been able to recover the way Morgana had. Every so often Merlin asked her about XM tentatively. She did her best to answer pushing her own feelings aside and thinking of Mordred’s pale face. It didn’t seem to help. 

Mordred was still young enough to be fascinated with even the most basic magic and Morgana sat at his bedside showing him the little she knew, how to light a fire or make something float a few inches above the ground. The sun was spilling in through the window and Mordred was laughing when Merlin came in. He grinned impishly at the boy. “What are you two up to in here?” 

Morgana showed him the tiny flame blazing merrily in the palm of her hand. Merlin placed his hand above hers and wiggled his fingers. The sparks jumped up to form the shape of a tiger and it pounced and ran caged in the space between their palms. Mordred was delighted by the little illusion and Morgana promised to bring him a tiger stuffed animal the next time they visited. 

…

Mordred gets worse steadily and nothing, absolutely nothing that anyone at the Balance facility does makes one-bit difference. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea.” Merlin looked at Alice, Arthur and Morgana, they looked back. Alice was his best hope. “It hasn’t helped when you’ve done it and I don’t think the problem is concentration.” 

Mordred was unconscious, looking incredibly small and vulnerable in his hospital bed. He hadn’t woken up in nearly a week. It was the longest he’d gone without coming to for at least a little while. Arthur was confused, Alice was worried, Mordred was sick, Merlin was miserable and Morgana, Morgana was guilty. She’d gotten a better sense of how things worked in the last few weeks and she was almost sure that what Mordred needed to get better was the same thing she had needed. 

So, she was feeling guilty because she knew it was wrong to push Merlin into being Mordred’s donor but needs must. It wasn’t something she did lightly, she knew there was something about the whole process that was terribly difficult for Merlin. She’d never actually seen it cause any adverse effects but in the early days of her stay at the manor when she had needed extra magic like medication, the strain had been obvious. Not so much in the way Merlin acted but in the way Arthur did. He hovered about Merlin like he expected some kind of collapse, carried about a ridiculous red sand pail and tried talking to Merlin about the strangest things, like a distraction. To top it all off, Merlin would without fail lock himself in his room for about an hour afterward, looking pale and shaking. No, she didn’t consider the whole ordeal lightly, but Mordred wasn’t getting any better. It was time to bring in the big guns and she had pushed even though it made her feel guilty. 

Merlin took Mordred’s small hand in his and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I have a bad feeling.” He said looking down at the boy’s face. 

“I don’t like it either.” Everybody stopped. Arthur hadn’t said a word since they’d arrived at the Balance foundation that morning. He’d just quietly listened to the plan with a dark expression. 

Morgana opened her mouth to say something she would have to feel bad about later, but Merlin interrupted. He’d found an ally in Arthur and apparently, they intended to make a case together. “It’s the magic.” He said, “My magic I mean, it doesn’t want to go there.” He shrugged, “It feels strange.” 

“Merlin, you know your magic can be more perceptive about these things. If there’s something it doesn’t want to interact with…” Alice gave an unhappy little shrug, “perhaps you shouldn’t.”

Arthur shook his head, “You shouldn’t do this, it’s a bad idea. We don’t even really know what’s wrong with him.” He paused and looked at Merlin properly, “Its probably going to make you really sick.” Then he walked forward and pointedly placed his red bucket on the table next to Mordred’s bed. Both a commentary on the plan and a commitment of support. 

“We have to try!” Morgana interjected. “What if this is all he needs to get better? Merlin, he’s our friend.” 

Merlin looked at Mordred again, there was a little stuffed tiger under his arm. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. There was a moment where Morgana could tell that they had turned gold even through his eyelids because of the glow. Then Mordred twitched and as if having gripped something red hot Merlin jerked away. His eyes flew open and he made to stand but ended up kneeling on the floor. Before Morgana could really even process what was happening, Arthur was at Merlin’s side, the stupid red bucket back in his hand but this time in earnest and Morgana realized Merlin was fighting not to throw up. Alice had rushed over to Mordred and Morgana couldn’t decide which of them she ought to go to first. 

She could hear something almost like the wail of a child in her head. A glance at Merlin showed him holding his head and she wondered if he could hear it too. It was so high pitched and miserable that she almost didn’t hear Merlin say, “Its not the same.” 

…

The towel was cold, wet and rough. Not damp but wet, droplets of frigid water seeped out with speed and eagerly soaked the collar of Merlin’s shirt. Not cool but cold, it made his skin sting and prickle and certain rebellious drops split off from their fellows to find their way towards the floor over his sternum and spine. As to where Arthur had found the damn thing Merlin had no idea. It wasn’t that he minded it all that much, but he would have appreciated a warning before being soaked. Morgana and Alice had stayed with Mordred, but Merlin and Arthur had decided to step away. Or rather Merlin had decided to step away in an attempt to compose himself. Arthur had followed with the dogged determination of a man who didn’t really know what he was doing there but felt he had made a commitment and intended to see it through. Merlin shivered at the sudden cold. “Would you get away from me Arthur!” He tore the towel off his neck and tossed it on the floor. It made a wet slap noise. 

“I thought you looked a bit feverish.” Arthur said as though Merlin wasn’t glaring at him murderously. “And now I think you should sit down.” His voice had the timber of a man who expected to be obeyed, or there would be consequences. Merlin wasn’t really too worried about the consequences that Arthur could meet out while in the Balance facility and he was about to say so when another voice interjected. 

“Its not a bad opinion.” Merlin glanced to the door and saw a man in a white jacket. One of the doctors then. Arthur made a half-stifled noise of shock as the man approached. Merlin looked at him properly. He expected the man to be showing some obvious sign of magic, eyes glowing or something, that always startled Arthur. It made him twitchy and uncomfortable when Merlin did magic, so he figured that if Arthur was seeing a stranger- 

His mind stopped. It was just for a second. One second that made him completely forget the dizziness in his head, the ache in his bones and the horrible heat that seemed to surround his body. It was just one second, his mind needed it to take this man in. The doctors face was covered in scars. They looked like burns. 

Merlin swallowed. He didn’t directly hire the people who worked at Balance he just made sure they got paid and he didn’t know everyone who worked there. “You seem very unwell.” The man said as he approached. “Perhaps I ought to take a look at you, I’m Dr. Muirden.” 

“Right, good idea.” Arthur said not quite looking at Dr. Muirden. Merlin scanned his memory for the name, Muirden, Muirden was a doctor working in the children’s wing of the Balance facility. He’d been there for about a year.

He spent a minute looking Merlin over and then asked if he had ingested anything out of the ordinary. Arthur coughed and begrudgingly, Merlin explained about Mordred. “I see.” Muirden said. “It seems your having an adverse reaction to the experience. I’d say you have a fever, any dizziness?” Merlin nodded sullenly. “Then you had better lie down for a spell.” 

By the time Muirden left Merlin was both feeling better and more irate than he had in a while. It wasn’t Muirden that was bothering him, it was Arthur. How someone could manage to act like a mother hen fussing over you while still maintaining an air of condescension Merlin would never know. He was also having a hard time staying awake but that was cured when Morgana burst into the room looking rather wild. 

Merlin sat bolt upright, and almost immediately Arthur shoved him back down. It wasn’t that Merlin had forgotten about Mordred; it was just that his mind seemed to have decided it was better to hope he was doing alright than know he wasn’t. The expression on Morgana’s face offered no good news. That was because there was none to be had. 

Mordred had a fever too, apparently. Unlike Merlin’s it hadn’t been tempered by an hour’s time and an honest man’s excessive nagging. Instead it had steadily climbed and now Alice was really worried. So worried that she had sent Morgana to make sure the same thing wasn’t happening to Merlin. 

Two more hours went by. Three more doctors joined Alice in Mordred’s room and they all shook their heads. There was quieted mumbling between the doctors. The kind that they kept amongst each other. They couldn’t bring down Mordred’s temperature, it was far too high, and Merlin knew without being told just what that meant. He hadn’t even had time to worry properly and then very suddenly… it was all over. 

Alice and another man were trying to usher Merlin, Morgana and Arthur out of the room, but they wouldn’t go. If they had asked ten minutes ago Merlin would have went, they might have needed the space. They didn’t need the space now and he didn’t see the point in walking away. As for Morgana, she was holding on to something inside of her and it took all of her attention. She couldn’t even feel properly, she was too focused on keeping hold of the slippery tail of her magic. Grasping for control she had never been taught, because she had no idea what would happen if she let go. 

Someone said, “Maybe if we’d had a sample of whatever it is that made him sick. It could be one of those things you have to work backwards.” And someone else shushed them and shook their head but Merlin had already overheard it. The words were already turning over and over in Merlin’s head echoey and only just managing to hold on to there meaning. 

He didn’t think before he spoke. It wasn’t a habit he was into, but he was staring at the little stuffed tiger and not thinking about anything really. “Morgana?”  
“Yes?” her voice was a whisper, less than that. 

“Where did you get it?” Merlin asked without looking up, “The XM I mean.” Silence. “Do you still have any?” 

The room was quiet. Morgana bit her lip. Merlin still wasn’t looking at her and she followed his gaze to the tiger and the pale boy it sat beside. “Yeah. In my room back at home.”

The words hung in the air. Suddenly out there in the world and no one really knew what to do with them. Arthur dragged a hand through his hair. The quiet was killing him. No, not killing him, poor choice of words. He cleared his throat, “I’ll get it then.” He walked out of the room before anyone else could speak. 

He felt like a coward. Then again what good was he doing there. He’d never even properly met Mordred, but Merlin and Morgana had both sort of loved the kid. They had invited him into their weird little family. It wasn’t a family Arthur could join, you had to have magic for that, and he never would. Besides he knew neither of them would go with him. Merlin wouldn’t step foot in Uther’s household and Morgana hadn’t since she had first fallen ill. The drive home was quiet despite the blaring radio and busy sounds of the road. Uther wasn’t home and Arthur couldn’t even summon up the energy to wonder where he’d gone. He found the pill bottle in Morgana’s bedroom. It was lying on the floor next to her vanity half spilled onto the carpet. He’d drop it off back at the facility and then drive to the manor. It would be hours in the car, but it seemed right. 

…

Merlin was torn between feeling completely out of control and the strange knowledge that he was entirely in control. He knew, because if he wasn’t everything would be burning. The room was dark, and he had no idea what time it was. He had driven them home. The manor was tall, dark and cold. They sat in the front room and he stared at the empty fireplace. His collar had dried since the incident with the towel, but he shivered. Morgana was curled up on the couch in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. She had her fingers in tight fists that likely left marks on her palms. 

She was struggling with her magic and Merlin knew it. He could practically taste it in the air gathering around her, the taste of lightning and sorrow. He was sitting on the other end of the couch because he didn’t want to leave her alone. But he needed to be alone. He could be a bird and fly away from this or something else, anything else because he needed to be away from this. He could feel his own magic beating against the walls of his consciousness and if he wasn’t very careful it would try to do something about this. There were some things that no one should mess with though and this was one.  
The front door rattled just loud enough to be heard. Arthur had his own key. Merlin blinked at the dark fireplace. There were footsteps coming from down the hall. Merlin blinked at the dark fireplace. Arthur’s figure appeared in the doorway. Merlin blinked at the dark fireplace. Arthur walked into the room and sat down on the couch between Merlin and Morgana. Merlin blinked at Arthur’s face. Stiffly Arthur wrapped an arm around Morgana and to his surprise she leaned into him desperately. Merlin stood up and made for the stairs. “Where are you going?” Arthur said a bit startled by the sudden departure. 

“My room.” Merlin said without looking back.

“Merlin, I think, maybe you should be with people right now not locked up by yourself. I know your really upset.” Arthur tried; well he had no idea how to comfort somebody. Honestly, he wanted to snap something rather rude, but he could tell now wasn’t the time. 

Merlin stopped on the stairs for a moment and then said, “I didn’t know him that well.” He started walking again. 

It was like the words had broken a trance. Morgana leapt to her feet. “You had better get back here right fucking now!” She didn’t even sound like herself. Her voice was hysteric, and she stormed up the steps towards Merlin. She grabbed his arm and tried to drag him back down the stairs, screaming all the while and eventually he just went with her. They didn’t quite make it to the couch but collapsed in a sprawl of limbs in front of the barren fireplace and as Morgana let out an enormous sob the empty fireplace burst into flame. 

She jerked away from the sudden blaze, staring at it in horror even as the gold faded from her eyes. Arthur flinched an uncomfortable observer. Merlin looked at Morgana and then the fire and then at Arthur and then his eyes turned gold too. The fire roared so fiercely that it was barely contained and the candles around the room joined it. The chandelier hidden in the dark ceiling swung like it meant to fall. 

With the grace of a man much better than himself, Arthur stood from the couch and joined the sorcerers on the floor. “Do not burn the house down.” He said quietly and he put one hand on Merlin’s shoulder and the other on Morgana’s. The fire died down a bit. 

“Right.” Merlin said. A deep breath and then, “right.” Again. 

The chandelier stopped its precarious dance, tinkling softly as it slowed. Merlin closed his eyes and a blanket slid off one of the chairs. Its slid across the floor and into Morgana’s lap apologetically. She picked it up and expertly slung it around all three of them. Merlin stared at the blazing fire and finally started to warm up. 

…  
Arthur had never spent the night at the manor before. He felt a little uncomfortable asking to, but it didn’t seem right to leave. Not even after Morgana had quietly gone up to her bed. Merlin must have thought so too because, as if by magic, one of the other rooms was already made up for him by the time he decided to try and get some rest. Merlin told Arthur he was going to bed too but that he had to put the fire out first. Instead he sat alone on the floor staring into the embers, thinking about everything that had happened through out the day. His chest ached. He couldn’t find a word in his head to describe the feeling he’d gotten when he tried to share his magic with Mordred. There was a creek on the stares behind him and his head whipped around. Morgana was coming down the stairs, looking like a mournful ghost in her white nightgown. “You can’t sleep either?” 

“No.” 

She sat down next to him, shuffling close to borrow warmth. “Morgana,” she gave a light hum in response, “I think someone was trying to kill Mordred.” She looked at him. Her eyes were red and puffy. “It didn’t feel the same as when you were sick. It wasn’t XM, just something similar.” 

“What was the difference?” Her voice was sad and flat.

He shifted uncomfortably, “XM was made to kill magic.” He couldn’t look at her. “I think whatever was in Mordred’s system was meant to kill people. That’s how it felt, almost like a magic of its own. Only malicious… its poison.” 

Morgana drew in a deep breath and answered in an even tone, “We need to find out who’s responsible.”

Merlin looked into the embers and breathed in the sent of faded smoke. “Then what are we going to do?” 

The chandelier above them tinkled and the manor groaned. An old building settling in for the night. Like Merlin, Morgana looked into the fireplace. “Punish them.”


	8. Attention

There is, of course, an antidote to grief. Its one of those remedies that everyone knows, but nobody can really bare to take. It takes a lot more work than pinching your nose and swallowing something foul. The antidote to grief is action because a lack of it is how grief gets you. If you lie still and let it overwhelm you, you’ll never get any better. What’s been done cannot be undone by misery. 

Lie still, and grief will consume you and perhaps eventually it will move on in its slow march. But that’s the thing about it, grief is slow moving, and you can, if you are very determined, outpace it. 

It was a hard learn skill, but Merlin could shake off misery like a wet coat. He pushed on in life with the stoic determinism of someone who had suffered worse things. When it came down to it, he wasn’t cold or closed off. He just knew how to miss without morning, and he had a way of dragging other people forward with him. Like patching up a damaged wall and hanging something beautiful in its place. The damage wasn’t forgotten but there was nothing too ugly underneath. Merlin had a lot of scar tissue but no festering wounds. It was hard to explain, it was painful to experience but it happened quickly and in the odd way of the world, life when on.

Morgana took longer, but as weeks passed, she healed too. She had a new soft spot, something tender and sad had set up residence within her. Eventually though, she could spend days without thinking of it and had to poke at it to be sure it was still there. It took time, but when she finally reached the point where the thought of Mordred made her smile in memory rather than shudder with loss, she met with Merlin in front of the fireplace and they began to make plans. 

…

Merlin was sitting on the floor in the front room of the manor surrounded by what a lesser man would have called an overwhelming amount of paperwork. Hard copy information printed out and organized. It encircled him; knowledge made tangible. It was the kind of thing he had grown to love. The things Merlin didn’t know disquieted him. At some point or another he had become aware of their absence. The empty spaces in his mind felt like lost books in libraries and pages torn out of the tomes within. 

That which he hadn’t been taught he compensated for with other learning. He didn’t have a knack for healing magic, and he’d had no teacher in that regard. Instead he had a degree in mundane medicine. It was a very little-known fact, floating around in the world somewhere. No, he wasn’t a doctor, he hadn’t gone on to do the training after he finished the school. It was just something he’d needed to learn, and he felt that if nothing else, it helped him to do a better job of running the Balance Foundation because he understood medicine in principal if not in practice. 

The point of it all was, Merlin had to know. Once he was curious, once something had caught his attention he had to know and if someone wanted to stop him then they would have to go to great pains to make that happen. He had a way of picking a topic and focusing on it until he had uncovered every secret it had. It was only that which he could not learn alone that alluded him. 

Since Gaius had called him on his birthday to somberly ask if he would help Morgana, Merlin’s focus had been split. He glanced at Morgana and Arthur who were seated on the couch across from him arguing politics. Merlin had long since tuned out their snapping words, neither sounded angry. Morgana coming into his life was the best birthday present he’d ever gotten but it had distracted him. It wasn’t a distraction anymore. In fact, it had brought him new information, he was certain now that whatever chemical concoction was sending people to Balance and Pendragon Prescription’s XM where two different drugs. That was thanks to Morgana. Now all he had to do is figure out where the other one was coming from and then to find a way to make it stop. It was a multilayered issue, but it was now the unfortunate recipient of his full attention. 

When Merlin concentrated, he could sense her magic in the room strong and healthy. It was comforting, like company he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. He looked for it, Morgana’s magic was surrounding her happily, dancing in entertainment at the argument. Then it sort of shuddered. She startled. “What are you doing?” 

“Looking at your magic. You could tell? Usually people can’t tell.”

“You are beyond creepy do you know that? Its amazing.” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. 

Merlin grinned at them happily. He’d just learned something knew: Morgana was powerful, even if she didn’t know it yet.

She made a face at Merlin and with a great focus she sent a little spark whizzing through the air at him. It stung like being pinched and Merlin jumped up laughing as it chased him about the room.   
Arthur looked between them uneasily. “Will you two be careful! You could start a fire.” The next thing Arthur knew, he was the one being chased while the other two put their heads together and snickered. They were like witches cackling over a cauldron or something else just as bad. It wasn’t fair how they could just team up against him like that. 

He couldn’t tackle Morgana; it just wouldn’t be right. Merlin though, Merlin he could tackle. 

He waited for the spark to dissipate and chose his moment. Laughing like a mad man Merlin closed his eyes and Arthur lunged. They toppled backwards over the antique couch.   
The couch had been through a lot in the last few weeks and in that moment, it seemed to decide that this was one transgression too many. There was a loud snap-crack noise as the weight of two full grown men smacked into it and something very old broke. 

They both sat up. Morgana covered her mouth with her hands. Merlin stared at the couch. It had a distinct sagging quality in the middle.

…

Let it never be said that Morgana Le Fay didn’t properly prepare for a situation. Since she had decided it was her duty to control the public narrative surrounding her life, she had began preparing to make a public statement. She hadn’t been sure where to start but as it turned out just about every reporter in the county wanted to interview her.

The list of requests Merlin had produced when she’d mentioned making a statement had taken her days to work through. She was determined to pick the right reporter, working for the right organization to be absolutely sure that she got a fair shot at telling her story. She looked into the previous works and personal backgrounds of every single name on the list. When that was done, she considered the style of interview they had requested and rejected any names that wanted a live TV broadcast. If this went well, then maybe she would work her way up to that. For her debut she wanted something more controlled. It left her with only two names. Guinevere Smith and Geoffrey Monmouth. 

Monmouth had a far larger body of work. He had worked for a variety of organizations throughout his lengthy career and seemed to be well renowned within the journalism community. Unfortunately, he also seemed to have a reputation for reporting in line with Uther’s point of view. With great displeasure, Morgana drew a line through his name. Which left Morgana with Miss Smith, who was only just starting her career. 

Smith was about Merlin’s age. Her bio on the Chronicle’s web page presented a picture of an open, friendly face. That face stared at Morgana through her laptop’s screen. She shook her head. It wasn’t really about the girls age; it was her lack of experience that worried Morgana. She had hoped that someone with influence and experience would end up as the last contender. All of those who could have been described thusly had proved inappropriate for a variety of reasons. 

It was strange. Having grown up under Uther’s watchful eye, Morgana was more than familiar with both the subtle and the obvious nastiness that was directed towards the magic community. Nevertheless, Morgana had always thought of Uther and his ilk’s perspective as an almost forgotten hatred of the past. The amount of sensationalism that surrounded magic in the news was bewildering but it usually presented the topic favorably. The old houses, the truly powerful ones were regarded as something not that far off from celebrity but also close enough to something noble that only those who could be considered very, very brave opened their mouths in dissent. They were other, strange and revered. Morgana had wholeheartedly believed that magic quietly ruled the world, governments and politicians aside. 

After publishing his New Energy thesis Uther had practically been laughed out of office, it had only strengthened Morgana’s perspective. She had been 17 at the time, already struggling to conceal her own magic and it had comforted her. She had taken Uther’s dismissal to mean that his draconian view on magic was unacceptable to the public. She had never quite managed to make herself read the paper though. 

Now that she was actively looking into the reporting surrounding magic... Well, she couldn’t believe her eyes. That same hatred she had grown up suffocated by could be found boldfaced and unconcealed in articles written by perfectly respectable authors and published in well-thought of journals. It made her wonder, not for the first time, just how bad the New Energy thesis must have been. On the other side of the spectrum there was a kind of fanatical journalism that practically worshiped the magic community. Disconcertingly, it seemed to be just as well accepted for quality work as its derisive opposite. What she needed was someone in the middle, trustworthy and interested in the truth. 

Miss Smith had very few published articles, they mostly consisted of fluff pieces and heartwarming stories. Morgana let out a long breath. It wasn’t as if there were many other respectable choices. She wasn’t looking to do a celebrity interview where she sat in a brightly coloured studio and laughed with the host about her personal business. 

Morgana picked up her laptop and looked at the screen. Guinevere Smith’s interview request stared back, her contact information waiting innocently at the bottom. For a time during her teens, Morgana had worked as a member of Uther’s public relations team. She knew how to do this. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Uther had done his level best to stamp out uncertainty in his children, it was at least one lesson she was grateful for. Now she had made up her mind and the only thing left to do was act. Once the email was sent, she closed her laptop and put it down on her desk. As she slid into bed, she tried to force out the worries that came with facing the public. She closed her eyes. 

… 

The second Arthur set foot on the property Merlin knew. 

It was Morgana’s fault actually; Merlin had gotten into the habit of letting his magic spread out over the manor and its grounds to look for her. It had started when Morgana had first been moved in, asleep and weak. Merlin couldn’t always be with her to make sure she was alright so instead he had let his magic tether him to her room. A small part of his mind remaining there in case she needed him. Then she had started to get better, to move around the manor and it was hard to keep track of where she was.

He had worried, what if she got hurt, or lost, or, or something! He was sure the manor could throw up something else horrible, he just wasn’t sure what. What if that happened?

So, bit by cautious bit he had let his magic lose and since nobody jumped out to smack him for it, he kept going. He had spent most of his life keeping it as tightly curled inside of him as he could, but Merlin had magic that could span miles if he wanted it to. Slowly he became aware of the entire building and every ounce of magic that wasn’t his own felt like a hot spot in his mind. It made Morgana into a little spark and he could tell that she’d been happily wandering the halls. 

Since he’d begun the practice, he’d lost track of Morgana only once, when she had entered the room that had once served as Nimueh’s study. It was the only place in the manor that had enough leftover, residual magic to cover Morgana’s up and his own magic shied away from it instinctively. Keeping as far away in spirit as he tried to in body. 

Merlin shook his head and sat up in his bed, trying to forget that last thought. The point was Arthur was making his way to the front door. Arthur felt like a little golden bubble moving through his magic. It welcomed him and without really meaning to, Merlin opened the front door just as Arthur reached it. He hadn’t left his bed. 

That was not good. Merlin closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, reaching inside himself for the center of his power. Then he breathed out slowly and as he did, his magic started to curl up and shrink back into him. He pulled it away from the gates of the manor, back from the front door, through the halls, up the steps from the twisting basement and the first floor and down the steps from the upper rooms and the attic. It disappointedly let go of Morgana in her room and disentangled itself from Arthur. It slid under his bedroom door and through the open window to begrudgingly settle like a heavy weight in his chest. He opened his eyes and almost undid the whole prosses in surprise when someone knocked on his door. A muffled voice said, “Merlin?” 

“Come in.”

Arthur opened the door and walked in looking a little less put together than usual. Merlin tilted his head to the side as he looked the man over. “What brings you here so late?” 

Arthur shrugged in an effort to look nonchalant. It was highly ineffective when paired with the look on his face. “I had a row with my father.” He meant to leave it at that but something about Merlin’s face dragged more words out of him. “Its about Morgana. I, well I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me staying here with you.” At some point between the beginning of the sentence and the end of it, Arthur’s eyes found their way to his shoes. 

Merlin screwed up his face in mock disgust, “Arthur, there are more than a dozen bedrooms in this house. There’s no reason for us to share this one.” 

Arthur’s head shot up, “That’s not what I meant!” 

Merlin snickered, his face breaking out into an impish smile that soon devolved into a goofy grin. Arthur rolled his eyes, he stormed over and tried to smack Merlin over the head. “Merlin, you idiot.” 

Merlin ducked and his eyes flashed gold. “Your room is made up. Do you need to talk to Morgana first? I think she’s still awake.” 

Arthur shifted from foot to foot. It still felt wrong to see magic up close and do nothing about it. To accept it. He thought back to Uther’s red face and just felt tired. “It can wait till morning I think.”

…

At 11:27 on Monday night Gwen was sitting in front of her computer staring. She reread the email and then again. For weeks she had been listening to her coworkers complaining about rejection letters.   
Well, she said coworkers but in reality, she doubted any of the higher-ups working at the Chronicle had ever even realized she was more than the coffee girl. That’s what made it so strange. Gwen had felt honestly silly when she sent her pitch. Most of the senior reporters at Chronicle had sent a pitch to the House Emrys about interviewing Morgana Le Fay.

Le Fay’s story had been a slow-motion domino effect. It began with a mysterious hospitalization, then the shocking reveal of her magic and then, wonder upon wonder, the involvement of Merlin Emrys. That man had a reputation for being more illusive than a ghost, but now the first pictures of him since he was a child where floating around the internet and plastered across magazines. Not just that, in some of them he was doing magic. People had gone wild for it. She was only surprised that she hadn’t come across the photos in poster form yet. 

It wasn’t so much a scandal anymore as it was a total shake up of how both the House Emrys and the Pendragon family behaved in the public eye. When news had broken that Le Fay had been moved from the Balance facility to recover at Ambrosius Manor everyone worth knowing in the field of journalism had sent a pitch requesting an interview. Instead of sending them to Uther Pendragon’s PR team, they sent them to The House Emrys. That alone could have made for an interesting piece. 

Nobody had asked Gwen to wright a pitch, but nobody told her not to either. So, she had done it. No harm in throwing her hat in the ring she thought. In the onslaught of rejections that had come pouring back to the important people, Gwen had simply assumed her request hadn’t merited a response at all. 

Now it was nearly midnight and she couldn’t stop staring at her email. It started with the words ‘Dear Miss Smith’. That part was pretty standard so was, ‘Thank you for your interest,’ the part that she kept reading was at the bottom of the email. ‘Please get in touch to arrange a date’ along side the contact information looking back at her from the House Emrys’ black and gold letter head. 

It was unheard of. Off the top of her head Gwen couldn’t think of anyone in the House Emrys ever agreeing to an interview. The letter head had been altered for her. She knew because she had seen the other rejection letters, they had no further contact information. She read the email again. Maybe it was a mistake, this was probably for someone else, but the emails had gotten confused. She swallowed. It didn’t matter, she was going to respond and with any luck this might be the biggest story of her career. 

She let her mind wander, there would be a lot to do to prepare for an interview like this. Research of course and questions to be drafted and approved. Before any of that she would have the pleasure of walking into her boss’s office and let him know that she had just landed them the exclusive that the entire nation and half the world had been clamouring for. 

She couldn’t help imagining the interview, it very well could be her first hard hitting piece. If she was meeting with Le Fay than there was every chance that Emrys would be there and-

She stopped herself. One miracle at a time. Getting any kind of a statement from Emrys was impossible. There were no requests to interview Merlin Emrys. Everyone knew he didn’t do that, none of the old houses ever really did. Oh, there were speeches and events and such, but they always had underlings to speak for them at those. Gwen was being invited straight to the source. There was no good in her getting greedy for more, though, she supposed there was no reason for Gwen not to bring Emrys up during the interview and a statement about him was almost as rare as a statement from him. 

She grinned at the monitor as she typed a reply. She wasn’t the kind of person who liked to brag or gloat but for a few seconds, alone in her apartment she indulged herself. It brought great satisfaction to imagine the looks on the senior reporter’s faces when they realized she’d been picked over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the last chapter was pretty somber to the end, so I wanted this one and the next few to have a bit more levity. One of the things I both hate and love about the show is that we never really get to see Merlin grieve. Its probably just a by-product of the show’s genre but I prefer to think of it as one of Merlin’s character traits. That he just gets on with things once there’s nothing left that he can do for someone. It felt like it made sense to continue that here. I hope you are all doing well and that you enjoyed this new chapter. Happy belated Easter. We officially have a Gwen! I’m sure she’ll find a way to stir up trouble.


	9. Its The Old War Again

It was becoming a rare thing for Merlin to be up before Morgana. She was a light sleeper and most days she rose with the sun. Merlin would find her sitting in one of the rooms near the back of the house where gilded bird cages hung from the ceiling like chandeliers. When the sun came in through the windows the empty cages seemed to capture the light and held it hostage well into the evening. They had never been full of birds, though Merlin didn’t have the heart to tell Morgana. 

Nimueh had liked to keep ferrets in the cages. The little beast could be used in magic and while most of the items could have been purchased from the grocery store, Nimueh had always felt that magic was more potent when the ingredients were gathered fresh and by the selfsame caster of the spell. Nimueh hadn’t liked to clean up after herself though and the room had often been a gruesome sight when he was a child. After she had left Merlin had set the ferrets free in the garden and cleaned most of the cages by hand until he found a spell to do the last few for him. 

This morning Morgana was still asleep and there was as of yet no proper sunlight to settle in the haunted chandeliers. Merlin had slept badly. He made his sleepy way to the library past the empty ferret room.

The library was less extensive then one might have thought, but there were still some books within it that Merlin had never read. There were some books that he never intended to read. A dark corner in the otherwise cozy room had sat untouched since Nimueh’s departure and locked up in her study there were other tomes. As old as the stones and filled with even older words that tasted like copper and rust and came out red like blood. 

Merlin ran his fingers over leather spines made fragile by time. His magic flowed out through the house and onto the grounds. With only a little touch of guilt Merlin felt it wrap about Morgana and Arthur while they slept. He was comforted by their presence in the farther reaches of his mind. They’re sleeping calm. 

The book he was looking for had a dark blue cover. On its front and spine, it read “The Old War”. Unlike the vast majority of the works in the library, this was not a spell book. It was a history book and in all the world it had no twins. It was, for the most part and assembly of firsthand accounts from a war so long in the past that no one was really even sure who the opposing sides were. The Old War, the fight that always seems to come back around again. 

Somewhere in the book was the only existing piece of writing by Cornelius Cegan. Merlin had read the book before and never thought much of it but as he’d stood in Mordred’s room, watching the boy struggle against the weight of something unseen… well, the words had come back to Merlin and they had stayed floating in the back of his mind ever since. He opened the dusty book and there they were, right where Merlin had left them, Cegan’s insidious words “there is a way for Magic to be turned inward.” Merlin sunk to the floor beneath the bookshelf to sit cross-legged as he read.

He had made it through quite a bit of the tome by the time he felt Morgana wake up. As soon as she was awake, he knew she was aware of him. His bashful magic tried to retreat from her, uncomfortable at having been caught hanging onto her like a favored teddy bear. He pulled his magic back towards himself. He was beginning to think of it like the clothes in a suitcase. He had been perfectly capable of closing the suitcase before but now that he had taken the clothes out, no matter how he folded them he couldn’t quite manage to fit them all back inside. There was always a little spilling out the sides, and it was easy to forget that it was there. It was too easy just to let his magic wander. 

He thought he heard laughter from upstairs. Or maybe hearing wasn’t the right sense, but he still knew that Morgana was laughing at him. Her magic chased his down the stairs towards him and a few minutes later he heard footsteps in the hall outside the library. She slipped through the door and joined him on the floor, looking over his shoulder to read the first few words of the book in his hands. “You are a lot like a child you know.” She said, Merlin blinked at her and she rolled her eyes. “Why are you always sitting on the floor.” 

“Oh…” Merlin answered intelligently and very pleased to know that she hadn’t been talking about his magic he added. “Its just more comfortable I guess.” 

“Buy new furniture you weirdo.” 

… 

Arthur woke feeling guilty. 

He’d fallen asleep feeling that way too, but he had hoped that the feeling would dissipate throughout the night. Uther’s voice was still ringing in his ears. They had argued so little in Arthur’s life. Morgana had always been the one to pick a fight with their father. Arthur could hardly even admit it to himself when he disagreed. The screaming row that they’d had in Morgana’s old bedroom, still felt surreal and strange. Something out of an unpleasant dream that just wouldn’t fade away with the waking. 

The things that his father had said just didn’t sit right with him, the words he’d used. No matter how he twisted them, Arthur couldn’t make those words fit Merlin and he knew that they weren’t words for Morgana. But it was as though Uther had forgotten that he was talking about her too. Uther’s face had gone red and screwed up into terrible anger as he’d said, “That thing can’t keep my daughter away from me!” and Arthur had been embarrassed.

Embarrassed to hear his father rant about the situation as though it were a piece from some misbegotten fairy tale. The old adages of princesses in towers and dreadful beasts lurking beneath, like Morgana was a prisoner. The embarrassment twisted in Arthur’s stomach all the more to know that he had spoken similar words. He wondered if he had sounded as stupid to Merlin as Uther did to him now. Arthur had stormed out of the house, calling that he would be staying at a friend’s place over his shoulder. He couldn’t even imagine what Uther would have said if he knew exactly who’s roof, Arthur had spent the night under. Yet, ever the dutiful son Arthur swung his legs out of bed as set off to find Morgana. 

There was a difference in the manor since Morgana had moved in. Arthur didn’t know exactly what it was or if perhaps it was a figment of his imagination, but the place had become more comfortable. Or Arthur had become more comfortable in it. Maybe it was as simple as a by-product of familiarity. He was used to it’s winding halls now, he’d grown to like them. He’d miss them when his open invitation was eventually revoked. 

His sock covered toes pressed into the antique carpets as he made his way towards the grand staircase. He still felt half asleep, he’d spent the night tossing and turning. He wasn’t sure how his sister would react to what he had to say but he had promised to talk to her. Arthur didn’t break his promises.

There was no one in the living room and no fire in the hearth. Arthur had rarely stayed the night at the manor, he had no idea what the morning routines of either of its occupants were. He wandered, Morgana’s bedroom door had been open when he’d walked by, Merlin’s had been closed but Arthur hadn’t been keen on entering Merlin’s room without having been asked inside. There was more then one kitchen in the manor and while Arthur imagined one of those would probably be a reasonable place to go early in the morning, but he had no idea where either of them was. He sighed, resigning him self to stumbling about the manor in search of his sibling. 

The sent of coffee stilled Arthur’s search. Arthur had never managed to develop a taste for coffee, but Morgana had started drinking it when they were teenagers. She told him that it was because she was older, that it was an adult kind of thing that he may never actually be ready for, but her face used to crinkle up at the bitter taste. Older and wiser now, Arthur realized that drowsiness and fatigue were symptoms of XM poisoning and the coffee had probably been an attempt to combat it. 

He followed his nose until he’d found his way into a kitchen. The sent of coffee warmly filled the room. There was a coffee pot being tipped to the side and fresh dark coffee spilling into two pail blue mugs. There was, however, no one holding the coffee pot… 

Finished with its task, the coffee pot sunk back down to the counter. Arthur watched with a slightly open mouth as disembodied cream and sugar danced about the mugs. Then, still seemly driven by no particular force, the cups lifted themselves into the air and began to float away. Arthur jumped out of their way as they drifted through the open door. He pinched his arm and turned his head to watch their progress down the hall. Still not entirely convinced of his waking state, Arthur apprehensively followed the floating mugs.

After a few paces Arthur began to hear the sound of chatting and laughter. By the time he’d reached the door he had no trouble making out the words. “Did you put sugar in mine?” 

Merlin’s thoughtful voice answered. “Uh, yeah I think so.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes; he could have said the next words in unison with Morgana. “Well I didn’t want any.” Arthur laughed quietly, how Morgana could turn a conversation about magical coffee into something that sounded like the spats she used to have with him as a child he’d never know. 

“Then you should have said! I wanted to go to the kitchen, you asked if I could do it this way.” Merlin’s response was more exasperated than anything else. He didn’t know how to put into words how much more difficult it was for him to use just a little bit of magic as apposed to using a lot instead. “This is hard you know; I can’t even see what I’m doing.” 

“Do you have to see what your doing to use magic?”

There was a little pause, “Well… kind of… No. But that’s not the point.” 

The door swung open, joining the cause to deliver hot mugs of coffee into Morgana and Merlin’s welcoming hands without either of them ever standing up. They both turned expectantly towards the floating mugs. “Arthur?” Beside him the mugs wobbled in surprise. 

Preferring not to risk spilling two cups of coffee onto what was probably a priceless antique carpet, Arthur raised his hands to grab each mug’s respective handle. Merlin grinned at Arthur like a puppy-dog that’s just realized its owner has come home. “Oh yeah, he showed up last night.” 

Morgana gave him a somewhat incredulous glance. “Thank you for letting me know that Merlin.” She turned to Arthur with a sweet expression. “Would you like a cup of coffee Arthur? We’ve just made a pot.” 

Without so much as a word, Arthur strode forward and planted one of the mugs in Morgana’s hands. “Is this the one with sugar in it?” 

“They both have sugar in them Morgana, lots of it too; apparently Merlin doesn’t believe in spoons. Speaking of,” Arthur turned to look at the man sitting cross legged beside Morgana. “Merlin, do you think I could have a moment with my sister?”

“Sure.” Merlin jumped to his feet, tilting his head to the side he said, “Do you want a cup of coffee?” 

Arthur felt the inexplicable urge to roll his eyes. Despite knowing that he had never before disclosed is beverage preference to Merlin, he still felt as though they had already had this conversation. “No, I don’t really drink coffee.” 

Merlin shrugged and made for the door. As he passed a strange feeling came over Arthur, almost the sensation of having a warm blanket pulled away. He jumped, “What did you just do?”

“What?”

Arthur pointed at Merlin, his words failed him, “You just, you- What did you do?”

Morgana laughed; her voice was teasing. “Oh, Merlin does that sometimes. It’s like a magical hug.”

Merlin turned bright red, he gave Morgana a glare and shot Arthur an apologetic look before slipping out of the room and taking his rebellious magic with him. Arthur stared at the closed door. It was weird, unpleasant and startling. He stood frozen, open mouthed. Surely it wasn’t normal to reach out and touch someone with magic! Or was it? Did Merlin and his like just go about magicking each other at the drop of a hat. Morgana didn’t seem worried, or surprised. Did they do that, touch each other with magic as casual as a handshake. Morgana’s voice cut into his thoughts. “What is it Arthur. Has Uther finally had the paperwork drawn up to formally disown me? Well, to what ever extent a man can disown his unacknowledged bastard daughter.” 

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Morgana, I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“No, you came to carry out our fathers righteous work.” Morgana stood up and strode towards Arthur. 

“Its not like that Morgana… its that-“ he paused and ground his teeth together, “Its that your better now and he wants you to come home.” 

The quite in the room was startling, Arthur had expected her to yell, scream and maybe even to hit him. he hadn’t expected Morgana to look so calmly cold. “So that what? We can play happy family and I can go back to pretending I’m not the very thing he hates?”

“Morgana, he loves you.” She rolled her eyes, “He does!”

“Is that why he never visited me while I was sick? I don’t need this right now Arthur. I’m getting ready to be grilled by some reporter. I don’t need Uther’s judgment on top of it all.” She walked past him and sat down on the armchair in the corner. From there she gave him an uncompromising stare. She had always been good at that. She had always been so stubborn. 

“This is hard on him Morgana, but he wants to see you now! Shouldn’t that count for something?” 

Morgana shook her head. “Arthur, I don’t know…”

“Give him a chance Morgana.” Arthur gestured around the room. “You can do it all on your own terms. You pick when and where and just hear him out. He misses you.” 

“Fine, call him.” She could imagine Uther’s reaction to being invited into the manor for a sit down with his defiant daughter. The idea of it made her lips twist into a smirk. “Tell him he can come here. I’ll see him this afternoon in the drawing room.”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth. “Here? You want him to come here? Morgana he will never agree to that!”

“Well then maybe he doesn’t want to see me as badly as you say.”

Arthur’s face crinkled in irritation; Morgana was being belligerent on purpose. “Don’t you think you should talk to Merlin before you invite our father into his home. Our father who hates him!”

Morgana blinked at him and then suddenly contrite said. “Yes… I should.”

Well, this was alright then. Arthur tried not to smile. Morgana would ask Merlin if Uther could visit the manor. Merlin would say no and then Morgana would have to pick a reasonable place to meet with their father and ultimately everything would be okay. No point in delaying things, he cleared his throat and yelled “Merlin!”

…

Merlin fidgeted. He was sitting on the stairs watching Morgana pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. He took one look at her face and then diverted his eyes to the ground. This had been stupid, so, so stupid. Why had he said yes to this? 

He hadn’t wanted to get in the way of Morgana reconciling with her father. He supposed part of him had thought Uther wouldn’t have the nerve to turn up here. But that had been stupid; Uther never cared what lines he crossed. Merlin had let his magic spread out to the very edges of his property, fearing the idea of Uther arriving there with out his knowledge. Now they were at the gate. Arthur and Uther in his fancy car. Sitting at the gate waiting to come in. Arthur who had told him it was a bad idea. Arthur who had known that it was a very bad idea.

He couldn’t get upset. Morgana was already upset, and he couldn’t make it about him. She was filled with a kind of nervous energy that put Merlin in mind of fizzy drink bubbling over. Without looking at her, without getting any closer he said, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“What?” Morgana went still. 

“They’re here. At the gate but you say the word and I’ll make him leave. He never even needs to know you made the call.” Merlin tried not to let it show just how much he hoped Morgana would agree. He could feel Arthur outside and Uther too. It was a strange contrast in his mind, the feeling of Arthur, like a light and Uther this heavy but familiar weight on his chest. Without really meaning to he found himself clinging to Morgana and Arthur. His magic engulfed them like a sea and Uther was caught in it to, something unpleasant that had sunken to the bottom. 

Quietly Morgana walked over to join him on the stairs. “He’ll blame you; he’d be so mad.”

Merlin shrugged. He hadn’t liked the idea of bringing that horrible man into his home to begin with, but he’d thought it would make Morgana happy. That was why she’d asked right; so that she could talk to her father and be happy. Morgana certainly wasn’t happy now. “The man already hates me, so it’d be no harm done.” 

“No. I have to do this. I’m not going to feel better until I’ve at least tried.” She sighed. “You can let them in.” With great displeasure Merlin reached for the locked gate with his mind.

...

The place was exactly as Uther remembered it. A dark smear of towering wood and stone taking up space that ought to belong to the sky. He had stood at the gates before, but he had never imagined that he would have to walk through them to enter that place. A shiver ran through him, but this was for Morgana, she needed him now maybe more than she ever had. 

They had been pulling up to the gates when Arthur had gone stiff as though he could tell that they were crossing the boarder of the natural world. Uther hadn’t felt any differently, but he knew better then most the evils of this other world that Emrys belonged to. If he had any grace at all the demon would stay away during his visit with Morgana. They had waited a long time at the gates before seemingly operating under their own steam they had swung open. 

Uther told himself that it could be remote controlled. He told himself not to get worked up but his teeth ground together. Arthur took his foot off the break and they moved up the drive. Like the gate, the great oak door opened itself for them and Arthur took the lead. Uther hesitated on the step, drawing in a few deep breaths of clean outside air. Arthur waited for him just inside, his son had clearly grown familiar with this place. That knowledge sat uneasy in the pit of Uther’s stomach. Arthur led him down a corridor and around a corner. Luckily, Uther wouldn’t have to explore the lion’s den to find his daughter. In fact, he had only been allowed in on the condition that he not go anywhere without Morgana. He rounded the corner into a large room with a grand staircase. Morgana was standing on one of the first steps. 

It was such a contrast from the last time he’d seen her. Her face was severe, but she looked healthy. Uther couldn’t help himself. He ran to her side. Taken aback by his excitement Morgana squeaked as she was pulled into a hug. “Morgana, I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you.” 

Morgana led Uther to the chairs in front of the fireplace and cleared her throat to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, Uther saw a shadow disappearing up the stairs. Clearly sensing its presence was unneeded and unwelcome. Arthur followed Emrys out of the room. “Well? You wanted to see me.” 

…

Merlin was making a beeline for his bedroom. He knew Arthur was following him. He could feel Arthur’s pursuit through his magic as though the other man were wading through a current to get to him, but he was pulling his magic back now. Trying to get it away from Uther, making himself untangle from Morgana’s magic and hoping she wouldn’t notice its absence much. 

He couldn’t get away from Arthur though. It was as though the man were caught in the wave of his magic and was being carried along as Merlin retreated. He gave up on the idea of getting away from Arthur. He didn’t bother closing the door once he made it to his room. Merlin sat on the bed and waited for Arthur to appear in the doorway. He didn’t have to wait long. 

“You know it was really hard for him to come here, you didn’t have to wave your magic about in his face the second we showed up.”

“Excuse me?”

“The gate and the door! You could have opened them like a normal person.”

Merlin tilted his head to the side and examined Arthur’s face. He wondered if Arthur was even aware of the thinly veiled insult he’d just thrown. ‘Like a normal person…’ Merlin rolled his eyes, it wasn’t like he thought of himself as normal, but it was still rude of Arthur to point it out. Besides if Uther was going to get his knickers in a knot over a couple of doors swinging out of his way, how the hell was he going to make peace with Morgana. Now that she wasn’t hiding it anymore, Morgana loved her magic. She used it twice as often as Merlin did. 

Arthur lifted his eyebrows and jutted his chin forward as if to indicate that he actually wanted some kind of a response to his ridiculous statement. Well if he didn’t have to be polite why should Merlin. Bypassing Arthur statement entirely Merlin said, “I want access to the paperwork from all the XM drug trials. Oh, and the ethics review too. Can you get that for me?” 

“What?”

“I’m looking into similar cases to Morgana’s that have been showing up at Balance. Only they keep dying. At first, I thought that they were all on XM and that your father was running some kind of secret illegal drug ring but now I’m pretty sure that it’s a different drug. Similar… but different. So, I would like to review all the available information about XM. Which I can’t do because its formula is patented.”   
Arthur stared at him with wide eyes. Merlin rolled his in response, “I could probably get like a warrant or something for them. You know, like from a judge, but I don’t think I could keep it out of the press if I did that.” Merlin’s brow crinkled in mock confusion and he new he was being an ass, he did but Arthur really had that coming. “Would that even count as a warrant? I don’t know what you’d call it.” 

Arthur’s mouth opened and closed. Merlin shrugged. “I know Morgana can’t get me the documents because she told me she stopped working for your father years ago. But maybe you can do it.” 

Arthur was starting to get worked up. His face was turning an impressive shade of red. “I… I can’t just give you access to confidential information Merlin and what the hell do you mean you thought my father might be running an illegal drug ring? XM is lethal, he knows that! That is why he stopped making it! What kind of person do you think he is?”

Merlin bit down on the inside of his cheek for a few moments, trying to decide how to answer that. He couldn’t quite look at Arthur while he thought it over. Eventually he shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know, when I was little, I used to imagine him with claws and fangs and stuff. Like he was going to jump out from under my bed or something. Actually, it was kind of a disappointment when I saw him for the first time.” Merlin tried not to focus on it, but his mind drifted backwards, to the court room where he had first seen Uther. He could remember looking at the man in his suit and tie and wondering how he could possibly be so afraid of him and hate him so much that they all had to be there. Now he wondered how that awful man could have possibly raised Morgana and Arthur, who he couldn’t help but love. “I don’t know what kind of a man he is. He won’t even speak to me.” 

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. He had no idea how to reply to that, other than an incredulous, “Really? With fangs?” 

Merlin shrugged and finally looked back at Arthur. His usual dopy grin found its way to his face. “I know, but I was a little kid.” 

Arthur barked out a nervous laugh. “Merlin…” He sat down on the bed next to him. He was torn. Part of him hated the idea of letting Merlin have anything to do with Pendragon Prescriptions. Not because he doubted Merlin’s intentions but because he knew Uther would hate it. Despite that, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Morgana had looked in her hospital bed and the idea of leaving anyone like that made him feel nauseous. Then again, he had no idea how seeing old records would possibly help. He licked his lips. He wanted to acquiesce. He was interrupted by the sound of yelling from the first floor. 

Arthur jumped up as though he had been shocked. He could hear Morgana wailing. She sounded furious. He bolted for the door and was barely aware of Merlin following him. 

In the main room Morgana was standing in front of the fireplace a few feet away from where Uther was still seated with an imperious posture. Morgana was yelling at the top of her lungs, so loud, so rushed that Arthur couldn’t even make out the words. But he could guess what she was saying and what Uther had said to make her so angry. She looked angry. Her face was twisted up in rage but there were tears running down her face. “You will never accept me! My magic is not what made me sick! You are! I want you out of my life, for good!” 

By the time they made it to the foot of the stares Arthur could see that she was physically shaking. She was more upset than he had seen her since they were children and Arthur froze at the sight of her like that. Merlin ran past him to her side. “What did he do?” Merlin’s head snaped around to glare at Uther, “What did you do to her?” 

Uther flew to his feet and turning back to where Arthur was still standing like a shocked statue he yelled, “What the hell does he want?”

Arthur gaped and Morgana went quiet. Merlin looked at Uther blankly for a long moment. “Funny you should ask; I was talking to Arthur about that before we heard you bellowing. Just a second, I want to make sure I get this right,” He said and then his eyes turn brilliant gold. A malicious smile drifted over his features. It looked so out of place on him to Morgana that even through her distress she nearly laughed. In a theatrical voice Merlin said, “Your first-born child!” Even knowing that it was an act, a joke, Morgana felt a little awed by the light in his eyes and the power that was explicit in its presence. Like the change between night and day Merlin’s face suddenly became sunny and with blue eyes he said, “That’s supposed to be my line, right? Glad to get that out of the way. Now please get out of my house.”

…

Gwen gnashed her teeth at the end of her pen, twisting and marring the plastic in her frustration. She tried in earnest not to take it as an insult to her own skills that these were the questions that the higher ups at The Chronicle had recommended for her interview with Morgana Le Fay. The approved questions list read more like some fluff piece from Cosmo than anything else. She drew a line through a few of the more embarrassing questions about Le Fay’s relationship with Emrys. She had no interest in feeding the gossip train that was following Le Fay’s every move.

There was no date set for the interview yet, but the marketing team had already started to promote their ‘exclusive look into the life of Morgana Le Fay’. Gwen hadn’t been announced as the interviewer though and she knew that there were still quite a few people who where hoping to subtly switch her out at the last moment for someone more experienced. She sighed, if she followed the questions list as it was now, her interview was going to come off as two teenage girls giggling at a sleepover rather than a hard hitting piece about the political and personal fallout that had been brought on by Le ‘Fay’s sudden outing as a sorceress. 

Gwen followed rules. She always had, since she was a child, she had been responsible and respectful. Everything she did she did by the book. She was the kind of woman who could accuse you of being improper and have it sound and hurt as much as any shouted slur. She was lady like, she was proper. 

Gwen tossed the questions list into the waist bin beside her and in the complete knowledge that her plan was improper and could very likely get her fired, she began to write her own questions down.


	10. Gatekeepers

Two days after the incident, Morgana hadn’t quite recovered from her encounter with Uther yet. The meeting had gone almost exactly as she had feared. Uther never failed to meet her expectations when it came to the topic of magic. If nothing else the man’s consistency should have prepared her for his behaviour. But she had let herself hope, foolishly gone into the encounter with her best foot forward. Someday in the future she would be able to say that she had honestly tried and maybe on that day she would be proud of herself for being openhearted but in the present it stung. 

Arthur had looked so lost when Uther stormed out. He’d stood there for a long awkward moment unsure of his options before finally deciding to follow his father. She hadn’t heard from Arthur since.   
It felt stupid to miss him so much. The rational side of her was sure Arthur would have given up on her before now if he were going to, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of loss. If Arthur had sided with his father and chose not to see her anymore it would be the real-life fulfilment of some of her worst nightmares. 

Morgana pulled her hair back into a bun and pinned it. In the mirror atop her vanity she looked professional but severe. Maybe even unapproachable. Miss Smith would be arriving at any moment. Morgana sighed, she reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair. It fell back to her shoulders sullenly. When the reporter from The Chronicle arrived, Morgana wanted to make an impression. The problem was she couldn’t decide what kind of image she was trying to build.

When Morgana had agreed to the interview she had been in a different frame of mind. Uther had left her rattled. All her reasons for hiding and supressing who she was had been brought to the surface. She wasn’t sure if she could really face this interview. She’d thought she was ready. It was easy to be fearless and bold when the only people she saw were Arthur and Merlin. Arthur who was so determined to prove to her that he still loved her and Merlin who was like her. Uther had reopened old wounds and reminded her of all the hate that she had been blocking out. 

She let out a long breath and took another look at herself in the mirror. Dark clothes, pail skin and dark ringlets framing her scowling face. Morgana swallowed and told herself that she looked pretty. It would have to be good enough. She forced herself away from the mirror and sat down on the edge of her bed. Eyes closed Morgana clasped her hands together and practiced taking in deep breaths.   
She was not alone. The thought was somewhat novel. Her secret was out and even if the interview went horribly and the article ended up hateful and cruel, she knew she wouldn’t be alone. It was odd to feel so sure of someone she had known for so short a time, maybe it was even naïve, but it was how she felt. Merlin would be with her no matter what they said about her. He’d probably let her stay forever if she wanted to. 

It had been nearly a week since she had needed Merlin’s magic and he’d told her that it was a good sign. In theory she knew it meant her own magic was getting stronger, but she was almost always enveloped in Merlin’s power now anyway. He was the one who sought her out, but she still felt a little guilty. It was everywhere and she couldn’t help feeling that she was syphoning it off for herself without even meaning to.

There had been a terrible moment when Uther had been there, and she’d noticed its absence. That might even have been the thing that sent her over the edge into hysterics. It had returned when Merlin did, a heavy weight that had reminded her of her own strength and her own power. It had been enough to make her stop crying. It had helped her regain control and she was fairly certain that she would never forget the look on Uther’s face when Merlin had arrived. When his eyes had turned gold and he’d mocked Uther to his face. She snickered at the memory and then chastised herself. 

The whole encounter was like something off of a playground. Merlin’s obvious antagonism to match Uther’s posturing. Like a child taunting a bully just to hide how scared they actually were. Now that she’d had time to prosses the entire mess and look at it as a whole rather than in parts, Morgana figured that Merlin’s magic had fled not to give her privacy but because Merlin instinctually recoiled from Uther’s presence. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask Merlin about it. He’d needed to do it, she was sure, but Morgana sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t have to vanish again today when Miss Smith arrived. 

…

Gwen wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Her fingers drummed nervously against the steering wheel as she pulled off the main road and onto a long stretch of what was undoubtedly privately owned paths. The drive from London had been longer than she had expected. She had to keep reminding herself that she wasn’t late. 

The single lane road she’d turned onto was lined with dense trees that towered over her car like something from a melancholy fairy tale. Despite having only just left a major roadway, she felt as though she where already lost. 

Gwen glanced around nervously. She’d just have to hope her GPS was right. She peeked at the map that was still showing on her phone screen. It still showed her car happily following the highlighted blue line to her destination. The tinny voice on the GPS said, “Proceed to the rout.” Gwen swallowed and returned her eyes to the road.

Unlike most of the manors and castles that littered the countryside, the House of Emrys had never been open to the public. The inside had remained a mystery to prying eyes for hundreds of years. As far as Gwen knew she was the only member of the press to have ever been invited inside. That fact alone was enough to make it easy to believe her destination didn’t even exist. All logic aside, her gut told her she was driving straight to nowhere with a full tank of gas or at least enough to get a long way out.

She was certain the address was correct though; she had copied it from the email and double then triple checked that they matched. She had googled it and it was the same written in her clumsy chicken scratch as it was in crisp printed letters. In theory anyone would be able to look it up online and drive right up to the gates. But nobody crossed through them without permission. 

Her jittery mind wandered, she doubted they ever got post out here. She couldn’t imagine being the mail carrier who brought it, just popped off to the House Emrys and dropped off the latest copy of The Sunday People. Gwen pictured Merlin Emrys darkly shadowed, wreathed in power and absentmindedly leafing through the football. She laughed to herself, then she turned a corner and the manor came into view. 

She took her foot off the gas and put on the brakes. The car slowly ground to a halt a few feet away from the front steps. She had already grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car before she realized her hands were shaking. It wasn’t as though she’d been given many opportunities to take point on important stories before and now that she was standing at the door it made perfect sense that her boss had wanted to replace her. 

She was the gatekeeper now. That was what they’d called it in all the esteemed articles that disparaged the modern press and citizen journalism. They’d said that journalist and editors where once the gatekeepers of media and chose with discerning eyes what was worthy of the press and what was not. Those articles always said the same thing, that the age of the gatekeepers had come to a painful end, fighting, and clawing as new media had pushed it aside. It had sounded true on paper; it had broken some small part of her heart that as a child had imagined the future she’d have as a hard-hitting reporter. It didn’t seem true now. She, Guinevere Smith, had been chosen and only she could open the gates between Morgana Le Fay and the world. She had become a gatekeeper, but this interview had been handed to her and she hadn’t earned it, she didn’t know what to do but her body was moving on auto pilot. 

Up the steps, to the door. Her hand hovered over above the carved oak. Her wrist moved of its own accord. The knock was as loud as a drum. Her hand barely had time to fall back to her side before the door swung open to reveal a tall man with dark hair. Her stomach lurched, “Oh its you! I mean your him!” Gwen floundered as she stared into the same face that had been decorating the cover of damn near every magazine and news paper in London for the past week. It was only when she was actually face to face with him that she realized she had never really expected to see him at all. She had no idea how to properly address him either, was there a proper address for what he was, would he be horribly offended if she didn’t use it. “Hello, um… Your Emrys-ness.”

Gwen could tell immediately, just from the look on his face that no one had ever called him that before and also… it sounded ridiculous. “Um…You can just call me Merlin.” He said and his voice was both deeper and softer than she had expected. He gave her a friendly smile and a half shrug.

She managed a quiet, “Oh” in response. 

Merlin smiled at her properly then, a face splitting half silly grin. For the first time Gwen noticed he had big ears and it made the corners of her mouth twitch. The ears softened him somehow, made him look sweet. 

“You must be Gwen.” He ushered her in through the door and offered to take her coat. The foyer had high ceilings and led into a hallway that was long and dark, decorated in deep hues that reminded her of the tarnished faces of precious gems. It opened out into a bright room, not bright in the sense of colours but by the virtue of two enormous windows that framed a towering fireplace. Mary flames danced behind an ornate grate that looked to be made from cast iron, but Gwen knew without asking that it couldn’t be.

Despite its grandeur Gwen couldn’t help but think the room cozy. Maybe it was because of the fire, or the soft looking blankets folded in neat piles on antique furniture, but more than likely it was because of Merlin. He led her through his home as he chatted blithely about the weather and her drive from London. “I’ll let Morgana know that you’re here. Can I get you anything, tea, coffee, juice, water?” 

“Um… yes, tea would be lovely, thank you.” She perched on the cushion of an armchair and watched Merlin walk away. It wasn’t the first impression she would have expected a man like him to give off.   
He spun on his heel to face her looking just this side of alarmed, “Do you take milk and sugar? I forgot to ask.” Gwen bit her lip to avoid laughing at his worried expression. 

“Just milk, thank you.” He smiled and nodded his head. She smiled back and filed away her first impression of Merlin Emrys as a friendly chatter box who almost but not quite forgot to ask what people wanted in their tea and seemed to think that it might possibly be a cardinal sin to do so. She smiled to herself and it was genuine. Every bit as genuine as she was sure that the priceless Persian rug beneath her feet was. 

…

Morgana nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock sounded against her bedroom door. She mumbled something that was barely permission to enter before Merlin threw the door open. “Gwen’s here. In the main room.” He gave an abrupt gesture over his shoulder using his thumb. 

“What’s she like?”

Merlin gave her a worried look. “I think I freaked her out. I opened the door way, way to fast she probably thinks I’m a lunatic. I should have counted to ten first, you should have seen the look on her face.”

Morgana’s delicate brow crinkled, “What, where you just waiting behind the door?” 

“I noticed that a stranger had arrived! So, I went down to wait for her.” 

“You sound like a puppy dog… I’m surprised you didn’t just use magic.” Merlin gaped at her as though he were trying to think of a spell to make people ‘be not freaked out by you’. She rolled her eyes. “To open the door.”

“Oh.” Merlin bit down on his lip as though her suggestion caused him terrible pain. Then he gesticulated wildly as he finished the thought. “Arthur said that was creepy. I didn’t want to creep her out, we want her to like us.” 

Morgana snickered, “Are you panicking?”

Wearing the wide-eyed expression of a man who could not begin to express his shame, Merlin shook his head. “I just couldn’t shut up the whole time. I think I actually use the phrase ‘its some weather we’re having’.” 

Morgana snorted, the glee of teasing Merlin stomping out most of her nerves. “There’s nothing at all remarkable about the weather Merlin.” 

Merlin thew his hands up and said. “I know that Gana!” without another word he started to slink off down the hall towards the smaller kitchens. 

“Where are you going?”

“I have to make tea.”

…

Unlike Merlin, Morgana looked exactly as Gwen had expected; beautiful, composed and reserved. Morgana swept down the center staircase alone. Gwen stood to shake her hand and they took seats across from one another in the antique armchairs. They exchanged pleasantries while Gwen took the notebook from her bag. She asked if it would be alright if she recorded the interview’s audio on her phone and Morgana nodded her assent. Then they both just sat there while Gwen searched for the words to begin. 

“So…Tell me about your magic?” Gwen fought the urge to wince at the sound of her nervous voice in the large room. 

To her surprise Morgana laughed out loud. At first, she thought that Morgana was making fun of her but there was something warm to the sound. “I’m sorry.” Morgana shook her head. “I just never thought I would be talking about this and to hear it put so bluntly…Its so strange.”

Gwen smiled at Morgana, suddenly aware that the other woman was every bit as nervous as she was. They were both in a new situation. Morgana’s first time being interviewed and Gwen’s first real interview. Her first important interview. She felt an unexpected flood of admiration for the woman in front of her. When Gwen had started preparing for the interview, she had carefully considered what Morgana’s story would mean politically and socially but she hadn’t ever really considered what it would mean for Morgana personally. Gwen had watched dozens of Uther’s interviews in preparation for meeting Morgana and her mind was once again filled with his words and rhetoric. Uther Pendragon’s daughter had magic and she was willing to talk about it. All at once Gwen was staggered by the woman in front of her. 

Morgana shrugged her shoulders. “The road to recovery from XM poisoning is a long one. But my magic is… Its wonderful. Its still weak, I have to completely focus to do even the smallest things but every time I use it, its like being let out of a cage. I’m grateful to have the chance to experience that because ever since I was a little girl, I thought... I thought that I had to hide but now I feel whole in a way I never knew I could.” 

Before Gwen could respond Merlin appeared at the end of the same long hall that he’d led Gwen into the manor through. Merlin had two cups of tea, one in each hand. It was an awkward interruption and it was beyond strange to see him in his home like any other person. 

Gwen accepted the tea politely and only feeling a little guilty, she payed careful attention to the way that Morgana and Merlin interacted with one another. They shared a casual air, like they’d known one another for years rather than months. Morgana seemed more at ease with Merlin there but the connection that Gwen felt to the both of them was almost instantaneous. 

Gwen took the little interlude as an opportunity to gather her thoughts. By the time Merlin left she had her game face on. This interview was going to mean something. She started with bold questions and Morgana was surprisingly open about her recovery and about the way she’d felt when she realized that her secret was out. She talked about her family and her upbringing. She talked about her feelings on Uther Pendragon’s platform without ever becoming emotional. She loved her brother but her relationship with Uther had become strained. Morgana claimed that it wasn’t just the reveal of her magic that had driven a wedge between them, but she didn’t elaborate. 

Gwen hardly noticed the time passing but the quality of the light began to change, the sun was beginning to set. Gwen was stuck with a sudden fear of driving home through the dark. The twisted path that had led her to the manor had been confusing enough in broad daylight. She had to go before it got any darker. In spite of the fear she had felt on her way in, now she was reluctant to leave. 

Looking down at her notes Gwen realized that she had mostly abandoned the list of questions that she had come in with in favor of moving with the flow of conversation. There was one question on the list that she had underlined and highlighted before leaving her flat that morning and she couldn’t go without asking. She read it in her head and tried to translate it into speech, it had seemed so important at the beginning of the day, now she almost felt bad for asking it at all. She cleared her throat knowing that whatever answer Morgana gave, this would have to be her last question. “have you ever considered the idea that by doing what your doing, just by choosing to acknowledge this at all, you are effectively undoing your father’s legacy.” 

The look Morgana gave her was bold and proud but there was something underneath it that was desperate, almost frantic. “I certainly hope so.”


	11. Everybody Wants You... Except For the People Who Won't talk to You

Despite all of his best efforts, when Merlin woke up, he stayed in bed. He wanted to get up. He did want to. He wanted to see Morgana and find out how the article had gone. Gwen had seemed very pleasant in person. That was all very well and good, but it didn’t mean she hadn’t written something that Merlin didn’t want to read. In fact, he was almost certain that she had written something just like that. He bit his lip. He caught sight of a few strewn-out pieces of clothing beginning to float up off his floor or tying themselves into tidy knots and he made them stop. He noticed a loud and persistent thumping. He hadn’t really slept. Not to mention the fact that it was still early, barely past six in the morning. Morgana was probably still asleep. Never mind the fact she always seemed to rise at the crack of dawn. Merlin stared into the dimly lit outlines of his room. 

Morgana had been happy after the interview, uplifted even. But ever since Merlin had failed to find the right words to say, ‘please for the love of god whatever else you do, don’t talk about me’, the sucking blackhole of nerves in his chest had only gotten worse. So, he wanted to get up, but he couldn’t. 

It wasn’t entirely unlike being sick or maybe hungover. He felt almost dizzy with it, nauseous even. He could picture his own name on paper in stark black letters, taking up space and getting noticed…drawing attention. He could already feel it, the eyes turning to focus on him. All over the world, people saying his name and wondering.

Thump, thump, thump! 

All of that attention was like a medicine ball balanced on top of his head. Slowly, slowly crushing him. By degrees so that he wouldn’t notice at first, only he did. He did notice it, even when it wasn’t there, he noticed it. 

Thump, thump, thump! He wondered how many people had read the article. Thump! He wondered if Gaius had read it. Thump! He wondered if Uther had read it. Thump! He wondered if Nimueh had read it. Thump! He wondered what she thought. Thump! He wondered what he should do. Thump! He wondered what the hell that noise was! Thump, thump, thump- “Hello Merlin! Are you alive in there? Wake up!”

“Morgana?” Merlin’s bedroom door burst open. Morgana was waving her phone in the air triumphantly. An enormous smile plastered her face. In her upraised hand her phone let of a non-stop series of chirps, dings, and pings. Merlin wondered if it might explode.

“Have you seen it?”

Merlin shook his head slowly. “No.”

“Right.” Morgana plunked down on the bed beside Merlin in a decidedly unladylike manner. “Shove over.” She thrust her still chorusing phone beneath his nose. “Look at this.”

Merlin skimmed the text in front of him on the glowing screen of Morgana’s phone. He read down the center of the page barely taking in any context. The screen was very bright, it stung his eyes.  
Gwen’s words were well crafted, she indulged in exaggeration that never crept into hyperbole. “She makes you sound like some kind of tragic hero…”

“I know.” Morgana rolled her eyes “But people are loving it! Honestly!” Merlin couldn’t tell from her face if she was flattered or just embarrassed. 

In his minds eye, Merlin could see it. The words creeping up, filling people’s minds and moving them to action. He could see a strained face splitting into outrage. “Uther does not come off looking good in this… and Arthur won’t be happy.”

“Oh, come off it Merlin, this is better than I could have hoped for. Try to be enthusiastic.” Morgana grabbed a pillow from its place beside her a wacked Merlin over the head. “Its not like the two of them can blame you for this you’re not even mentioned in it and if anything, the gaps make you look really good.”

Merlin blinked. “Its not… I’m not in it at all?”

Morgana snorted and it occurred to Merlin somewhat belatedly that he might have sounded disappointed. “No, told Gwen I didn’t want to talk about you. I said I would preserve your privacy, didn’t I?” It was a bit like someone had pulled the drain out of a bathtub filled with words and now all the things they would have said, all the words that would have drowned him were slipping away back into the land of things that people think but seldom say allowed. After a long pause Morgana shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve tried calling Arthur, but I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

It took a conscious effort to keep the wince off his face. “He won’t pick up?”

“No, his phone is turned off… it keeps going straight to voice mail.” In contrast, Morgana’s phone was still chirping away. A different little sound bursting free with every few seconds. “If I thought I was popular before…” She picked up the phone and waggled it in the air. “Now I’m a national sensation.”

Merlin made a face “International, I expect. Maybe you should write Gwen a thank you note.” 

Morgana smiled, “You know, maybe I will.”

…

It was hard to believe now but Uther Pendragon had once been the darling of the press. It had been something of a coup when he had fallen from grace in their eyes. Practically over night he had gone from the smiling figure of politics to the blacken face of disgrace. Of course, some people said it had been coming for years. His inevitable downfall pushed closer each day by his increasing fanaticism, and his report on the use of magic had simply been the final straw placed on a deeply overburdened camel… Snap.

Years after it all, Uther still couldn’t bring himself to regret it, though things had certainly changed… and all over Emrys. 

Now Uther was rarely favored in the press. It was an unfortunate but undeniable fact that his reputation had suffered irreparable damage. He wasn’t entirely hated; he spoke his mind and those who agreed with him did so avidly. They stood in the streets with signs over their heads. They chanted at rallies. They saw what the general public seemed to stupid or self indulgent to realize and yet Uther felt trapped on the outside of a snow globe. He could see inside, were the painted politicians and gutless fools were making a mess of his county, he could see the way that the press fell over themselves to play along with whatever nonsense was available. Hell, he could even pick up the snow globe parliament and shake it about until the confetti rained around them and still, they ignored it. The little statues stood still and useless. Uther had grown used to it though. The frustration, the anger, the constant knowledge that evil was out there, and no one meant to do anything about it. He had slunk away from the spotlight that had burned him so badly, but he had never forgotten how they’d turned on him.

And now there was Morgana… Morgana’s article had not painted a pretty picture of him. To be fair, it hadn’t actually had much to say about him at all. The ugliness had come through between the lines and left Morgana looking like she’d escaped some terrible past to take on a new future standing on her own two feet. Uther listened to the tinny voice on the radio wax poetic about truths revealed and the courage of a plucky young woman daring to redefine herself on her own terms. He rolled his eyes. He didn’t trust these people to hold his daughter up as some sort of society darling, he knew how fickle the media truly was, he’d tasted it firsthand and it was certainly bitter. 

…

In the day that she’d waited to get in touch with Gwen, Morgana had let Arthur’s radio silence had sunk in. They’d bickered all their lives and never come up against a problem that they couldn’t somehow argue their way through in a mess of snarky words and empty threats. But now Arthur wouldn’t take her calls and she wasn’t sure if it was because her depiction of Uther had wounded his pride or if he’d been genuinely hurt by what she’d said and done. She was a champion at the one-sided conversation but even she couldn’t argue with someone who just wasn’t there. So, she’d given it a day before she did anything and when her brother continued to freeze her out, she’d called Gwen.

It wasn’t as through she had technically been in hiding. But Morgana was still timid when she thought of going out into the world again. Her name was everywhere and for the first time that she could remember it was actually about her. She wasn’t being called Uther’s daughter and she wasn’t a faceless someone hiding behind Merlin. She was standing alone and making a name for herself.  
She wasn’t sure if it was something she’d ever really planned to do. Certainly, she hadn’t planned to hide for the rest of her life… or had she. She’d hoped, when she first started to realize that she had magic, she had hoped that if she ignored it, pushed it down hard enough, it would disappear. But it hadn’t and now it was out in the world and so was she. 

She’d grown up her hold life just left of the spotlight. Uther had been more interesting. Arthur had been more interesting. Still, she knew how to avoid being seen if she wanted to. She’d learned how to find places where she wouldn’t be recognized or at least wouldn’t be harassed if she were. So, she’d booked a table at one such place for lunch and asked Gwen to meet her there. 

Morgana stat alone at a table in the back of Chez Laurent nervously. At one point becoming so completely sure that Gwen had stood her up that she was about to walk out before she looked at her watch and realized that Gwen couldn’t even be called late yet. She fidgeted, surreptitiously scanning the restaurant for and cameras or cellphone discreetly pointed in her direction even though she knew that couldn’t happen here. Not a Chez Laurent, a deep need for privacy was practically a prerequisite for booking a table here. She sipped her water daintily, the kind of dainty sips which wordlessly indicate to any thinking onlooker that the drinker would rather be drinking wine. She should have made Merlin come with her, but he hadn’t offered, and she hadn’t wanted to push him any more than her presence already had. Besides, there had been another rush of admittances to the Balance Foundation’s nearest facility and Merlin was convinced it was more of the Not-XM that had killed Mordred. The new patients were all around the same age as him and fairing poorly. Merlin was spending a lot of long nights looking over charts and rushing back and forth from the facility to the manor. 

The situation there didn’t seem to be getting any clearer and they had reached a bit of a stalemate. Morgana let her mind wander back to Mordred. Her heart twisted sharply at the memory and she barely noticed when one of the restaurant staff appeared beside the table with Gwen in tow. 

She was dressed in a dark little number that was almost too fancy for Chez Laurent, the patent pick of someone who really wasn’t sure if they ought to dress to impress or just try to look casual. Morgana smiled brightly and stood to shake her hand. “Miss Smith, thank you for agreeing to meet with me again.”

“Please call me Gwen.” Her smile faltered a little, “Is this about the article?”

“Well, yes and no, I just wanted to say thank you.” Morgana smiled sheepishly. The awkwardness still hadn’t quite worn away but just like their first meeting she could tell right away that she liked Gwen. It wasn’t particularly usual for her to be so taken with someone she hardly knew but with Gwen conversation was so easy.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. Its my first major article and I’d never have gotten it if you hadn’t given me the chance. I’m glad your happy with the article though.” Gwen beamed. “To be honest I found you quite-” she struggled looking for the right word. “Inspiring I suppose, and I think it came through in the writing.”

Morgana laughed, “I think you may have given me rather more credit than I deserve.” She leaned across the table and took Gwen’s hand and leveled her with an earnest look. “I honestly can’t thank you enough, I wasn’t sure that I was making the right decision until I saw the article yesterday.” She let the moment of sincerity pass as she leaned back in her chair. “You know I think I nearly scared Merlin out of his skin when I burst into his room at six am to show him what you’d written.” 

Gwen returned Morgana’s laughter in kind. I was odd to her how easily she could picture the scene Morgana had described. “Actually, I could imagine that.” Feeling a bit bold she added. “Mr. Emrys was nothing like I’d imagined he’d be.”

Morgana froze as she ran that sentence through her head again. Vaguely she knew that it might not be wise to speak too casually about Merlin with a reporter but something about Gwen inspired her confidence. She didn’t believe that Gwen was fishing for information, but there was one thing that she kept getting stuck on. “Mr. Emrys?” Morgana held back a snicker.

Gwen seemed to become uncomfortable. “Yes well, he told me that I could call him Merlin, but I wasn’t sure if it might bother you. You made it clear that you didn’t want to talk about him during our interview.”

“Oh.” Morgana nodded her head in understanding. “I just, I wanted to respect his privacy. He’s a privet person so I didn’t want to talk much about him… on the record.” Morgana trailed off, after a beat she could still feel the corners of her mouth trying to tick up into a smile. “Its just, I can’t imagen anyone actually calling him Mr. Emrys.” 

Gwen smiled again and the room seemed to immediately warm back up. “I completely agree.” She shook her head, looking a little embarrassed but more amused, “If you think Mr. Emrys sound ridiculous then you won’t believe this.” Gwen paused for effect. “When I first met him, I called him ‘Your Emrys-ness’.” 

Morgana paused, her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. “No, you didn’t!” 

Gwen nodded, laughing and flushing with embarrassment at the same time. “I think I might have bowed a little.” 

It was only iron clad self control that stopped coffee from spurting out of Morgana delicate nose. She placed her coffee cup down on the table and gently dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. Her stomach ached from laughing and she couldn’t stop the way her shoulders shook while she tried to avoid any indigent display. When she could control herself again, she said, “Let me tell you something about Merlin. Merlin is eternally rumpled.” She could feel herself cracking up again. “Its not something you notice at first. When you first meet him your way too dazzled by the whole power thing. I mean you can really feel it, it rolls off him in waves.” Morgana rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve met him. But the thing is after a while you just realize that somehow always looks…” Morgana’s hands came up gesturing as she searched for the appropriate terminology and then she found it. “Mildly disheveled.” She’d barely managed to choke out the last words before the laughter took over. 

…

In the weeks following the release of The Chronicle’s article on Morgana, she had been contacted by more publications, talk shows and independent reporters than Merlin could count. To his satisfaction, Merlin was rarely their desired topic. Unfortunately, many of them did want to focus on what one particularly pushy journalist had called “The obvious fissions Miss Le Fay’s political stance has caused in her family”. Merlin had personally ensured that Morgana never saw that one because… well, yes, Arthur still wasn’t picking up his phone when she called. 

His sudden and complete absence in the manor felt strange. More so than Merlin would have expected. Though when he thought about it, he realized that he’d gotten used to having Arthur there a long time before he’d gotten used to having Morgana. The whole thing threw him off balance considering just how long the manor had gone entirely without any kind of guests at all. 

That had been before Morgana’s arrival though. Now, he was starting to get used to seeing Gwen there every once and a while. She and Morgana had become fast friends, and it wasn’t unusual for her to come by, though more often than not Morgana went to meet her somewhere else. After all it was quite the drive from London proper to the manor. When she was there though, Merlin did his best to stay out of their way. He’d had plenty of practice of being seen and not heard, but the fact remained he was even better at not being there at all. 

When Morgana had told him that she planned on inviting Gwen over for drinks in the evening, he’d made sure to fill his time with paperwork from Balance and other semi urgent affairs of the estate. It hadn’t been difficult, his pile of unfinished work seemed to be steadily growing in the corner of his mind ever since he’d realized that his magic had killed Mordred. He’d worked through the evening well into the night. He was still in the library long after Morgana had popped her head through the door to let him know that Gwen would be staying for the night. 

Eventually Merlin dragged himself into the siting room and collapsed on one of the armchairs. He knew that he should go to sleep. The pile of papers he’d left in the library could wait until tomorrow. Only he hated to leave them undone. The Not-XM cases were still increasing, and he was no closer to figuring out why.

He wondered if Arthur was awake. His phone sat innocently on the coffee table in front of him. It would be rude to call at this hour… if he texted Arthur it wouldn’t wake him up though right? Right. So, he’d just ask. A quick nudge to convince the guy to do the right thing. He picked up his phone and sent the text without thinking about it too hard. It helped that he was so tiered. 

The night air had a distinct chill to it especially in the large open space of the sitting room. Merlin sighed and twitched his fingers. The log lying dormant in the fireplace burst into flames, filling the sitting room with warm orange light. 

Merlin felt his magic ripple, like the tiny act of lighting the fire had disrupted the smooth surface of water. He felt his power roll over the manor and the grounds. It found Morgana sleeping in her room, a steadily counterpoint of ever-growing power. It found the little spark of energy that he associated with Gwen, awake and near by. He almost didn’t jump when he heard a voice say “Oh, your up!” from the top of the stairs behind him. 

“Hello Gwen.” Merlin watched her decent the stairs wearing one of Morgana’s nightgowns. 

At the foot of the stairs Gwen stopped, looking a bit anxious. “I- well I thought I heard something and now I can’t get back to sleep.” Merlin nodded but she continued. “I guess its that this place is just so big… you know old houses settling and…” She floundered, worried that he’d think her rude. 

“I had a hard time learning to sleep here when I was little.” Merlin offered the worlds quietly, trying to indicate understanding without actually remembering. 

Gwen took a few more steps towards the chairs. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all.”

Merlin’s mind flicked back to the phone. Nothing from Arthur. He should probably assume that at best Arthur hadn’t seen the message and was asleep or at worst he simply didn’t want to deal with Merlin right now. Instead, Merlin sent another message while he listened to Gwen settling into the chair across from him, “I thought you always lived here.”

“No, I moved here when I was little…” Merlin looked around for something to change the subject. Not the phone. “You didn’t say anything about me in your article.” Oh, well… it had been on his mind a lot lately. He looked at her and saw her shift, not quite looking at him now. 

“Yeah, I know, it just it wasn’t about you, you know.” An uncomfortable bubble was rising in Gwen’s chest. “Its Morgana’s story.” 

Merlin shook his head rapidly. “No, its not, I just mean, I know Morgana said that she would keep me out of it but… I wasn’t sure what you would do.” Merlin shrugged. “I’m trying to say thank you.”

Gwen let out a nervous laugh. “You and Morgana are both pretty pleased about that actually. You know most people would probably be unhappy about not being mentioned in a worldwide news story, especially when they got to rescue the damsel…” 

Merlin snorted incredulously, “Morgana?” and just like that the tension was broken, Gwen was smiling at him. “I’m glad you didn’t talk about me… then again I’m not particularly like most people I suppose.” 

“Well, you are strange.” Gwen’s eyes went wide. “Or, not, I didn’t mean that like it was a bad thing- I like that your- I mean it’s a good thing.” 

Biting his lip to keep from smiling, Merlin asked “I’m strange but it’s a good thing?”

Gwen’s flustered face was turning a pretty shade of pink. “Well… I think so. Your much more ordinary than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m confused, am I strange or ordinary?”

It was right around then that Gwen realized that he was joking. She rolled her eyes. “You are strangely ordinary, for someone who is so strange.”

Merlin nodded solemnly. “It all makes sense now.” 

“So… who do you keep texting?”

“What?”

Gwen pointed to the phone in his hand. “Well, you keep sending messages every couple of minutes, but you haven’t received a single message back. Which isn’t exactly surprising considering how late it is. Or early I suppose. So, is it anything interesting?”

“Nosy! That is vey nosy.” Merlin gasped in fax outrage. 

“What can I say, I’m a journalist.” Gwen laughed. But really, she couldn’t help it. “Is it a girl?”

Merlin didn’t look up. “No.” 

“So… it’s a guy?”

After considering for a second Merlin shrugged. “Its an Arthur. But he’s not speaking to me or Morgana at present. I’m only making it worse by bothering him so much, but I want him to get something for me and I don’t have a lot of time.”

“What do you want?”

Merlin fidgeted with the phone. The whole point in asking Arthur was to avoid having the press scrutinize the Pendragons anymore then they already were. He looked up into Gwen’s open and earnest face. “Um… you promise not to write a sensational article about it?”

She lifted her right hand in the air, holding back a smile. “I solemnly promise you.” It wasn’t as though she was particularly interested in working any gossip pieces anyway. 

He looked into her eyes for a moment and then shrugged. “I want all the records from the investigation into XM. There’s something similar out there and I’m trying to figure out where its coming from.”

“Oh…” Gwen blinked. That didn’t sound like gossip, that sounded like a story in the making. Still there was no danger of her braking her promise. Before she could publish again, she’d need to get editorial permission and they higher ups at The Chronicle where still smarting from her recent success. Then again, reporters pulled old files all the time… “I could get those for you.”

“How’s that?”

Gwen took in Merlin’s furrowed brow and grinned. “I’m a professional nosey person.”

Merlin smiled, “Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly one of my favorite things in season one is how often Gwen essentially says to Merlin "I'm really into you." and Merlin is just like "I don't think you know what your talking about Gwen." So, I tried to make them just a touch flirty as a nod to that.


End file.
